Uncas and Alice
by Amplesound
Summary: I like the mystery feelings of U and A so I decided to create my own character from which to look out of. Filled with historical inaccuracies, adventure and bladiblah but it is Uncas and Alice based and we love them the most so...read and review and lemme know what you think. That being said, my character will inevitably have to go on their own adventures because such is life.
1. Chapter 1

I will tell this story straight and let it be known that I am dying. My wounds are deep, my lungs burn with each breath I take and I imagine death waiting patiently by the door of the wigwam. Not yet, I keep saying, not yet.

Not yet, he whispers back in my dreams, but soon.

I will tell you how I got here because blow me down if this isn't a story for this small part of history to know.

So I was wanting to get to Illinois. I was from a small town in North Carolina, right there on the coast. My mother was French, my Father British. So when the wars broke out, I was in trouble. My father got called to war, refused and was hanged. My mother would be next...inevitably. I had been surviving on my own for a while by that stage but when your mother says your father's gone and your home will be your grave, your independence goes to hell.

"Pick a place Marie! Pick a place on the map," she pulled out a map from the drawer by my old bedroom window, "hurry,"

I spied Illinois and remembered all the stories. All the adventures I had planned for myself in the Iroquois woods on the border of Wisconson in my head. Illinois.

"I'll get supplies and we'll go together to Illinois," said I defiantly.

"No, je ne vais pas laisser votre papa," she replied stubbornly, "Je ne vais pas courir a partir de la guerre. Je vais montrer aucune peur ni hone."

"Alors pourquois devrais-je?" I fired back. If she won't run. Then why should I?

"Pas Britannique, pas Francaise. Mais vous pourriez etre a la fois."

That was an odd thing to say to me. I'm not French nor British but I could be both...

Anyway, those were her last words to me before I grabbed a bag and the map and my Father's uniform and replaced my dress with it and made for Illinois. Delving deep into the North Carolina woods without so much as a 'Au Revoir'.

It didn't take me long to realise I was useless with directions. The map only got me so far before I realised that perhaps I was heading East and not West. I had planned a solid West before blanching North and continuing on. This was a week or so into my travels and I had kept my head down right from the get go. I'm not a hero, I'm not a tracker. All I had was a sublime sense of adventure which made enduring the gunfire and the deathly still nights that much easier.

I had found a small Delaware Village in the middle of nowhere and had found myself curiously welcomed. I had my uniform stripped off of me and replaced with a beautiful but practical Delaware dress and moccasins. They were thick and warm and just the right fit which amazed me since my mother could never get my size first time. They fed me and fixed my uniform before giving it back to me in a new sling-bag. Only then did we start trying to communicate properly. We tried English, French, a Delaware dialect before we settled for making our communication attempts a game of charades at night by the communal fire and even then, though it was fun, we were stuck and I ended up lost while they stared at me kindly but with pity.

I was there for four days before I made it known that I'd be leaving. I made my way to a man I'd never seen before but assumed was apart of the family. He was carving away at a piece of wood when he looked up at the sound of my footfalls. He watched me approach cautiously, almost puzzled.

I arrived and was about to attempt to communicate my wishes when he spoke to me in English with a smooth flowing grandeur, perfect and boldly better than my own sometimes,

"You're not quite where you're supposed to be, are you..."

I was stunned. He nodded patiently and went back to what he was doing.

"Illinois...was...is where I'm headed,"

He lifted his head, surprise on his features,

"You're a long way from there."

"I know."

He looked at me thoughtfully, placing his woodwork down to give me his full attention.

"You have the eyes of someone with a story. How came you to this place?"

I paused a moment. I revelled in the sad thought that I had become a weary traveller with a story only mine was a week old and not a good one. I recounted my tale as quickly as I could, I had been doing well with not thinking about it and now, telling my tale was opening wounds a gave no time to open. They were fresher than fresh.

I sat down and crossed my legs, trying not to let the pain flow too easily. It never matters how old you are, when you mother dies and even your father, the world falls from your feet regardless of wisdom.

"Not good." He grunted. Even as I sat, half broken, I didn't get the sense of bewilderment that might have come with telling someone an unexpected tale of bereavement. I appreciated that more than words could say.

"I am Chingachgook. My sons and I are heading West to Ken-tukee. You will come with us and when we reach the villages of the Delaware, I will show you which way to go."

And so that was that. I daren't question this man not that he was asking me anything...

But that was how I met Chingachgook. I didn't meet the sons until it was time to leave three days later. Over the course of those days, not only did I speak with Chingachgook but with the people of the village. It was magnificent finally being able to speak to them and be spoken too with mutual understanding. I imagined that Chingachgook got very tired of translating our conversations but he never showed it. I did manage to learn a Delaware word or two but I don't remember them now.

The morning of our last day, Chingachgook and myself were standing on the edges of the woodland waiting for his two sons to arrive. Chingachgook looked non too pleased with a white man with two Delaware women on his arms, talking gaily with them while they displayed no small amount of attachment.

This man and Chingachgook exchanged a few words whilst the women wondered off reluctantly with Chingachgook's stoic and steady gaze trailing after them. I stood awkwardly to the side, astonished at the white man speaking a native language until at last they turned to me.

"Nathaniel," Chingachgook said stonily, "My white son."

Nathaniel nodded and we shook hands.

"Marie," I offered and Nathaniel accepted though he seemed baffled.

"Ah. That is your name." Chingachgook said abruptly, turning to me.

"You never asked."

Chingachgook smiled at me then. I had managed to say the right thing it seemed.

"You're travelling with us to Ken-tutee, I hear," Nathaniel said factually, tightening his belt.

"Illinois actually. Your...father...kindly offered to take me as far as Kentucky with you before he pointed me in the right direction."

"Illinois? How'd you get here?" he looked perplexed and I scrunched my nose at my poor explanation. Chingachgook filled in the blanks much to my dishonor.

"Bad with directions." Was all he said and I stared at him blankly.

Nathaniel laughed and on that little moment, I feel mine and Chingachgook's relationship was based.

"Where is Uncas?" the elderly man asked Nathaniel with a frown. The son shrugged,

"I'd tell you he's with a woman but –"

"I would not believe you. Life is good but not that good."

"Why's that?" I asked, perhaps a little too upfront.

"Uncas, despite the man he is, is not interested in finding a woman. That's why we're off too Ken-tukee, to find him a wife. They're the last two."

"Last two of what?"

"The Mohican lineage. Uncas is my father's last hope..."

"And I will die waiting," Chingachgook grumbled. Nathaniel pulled a face at me before he turned and shouted for his brother to which a voice from nowhere responded.

From the border of the village stepped a young man. Tall and lean with cheekbones as sharp as knives and almond eyes that were sharper still. His beauty was unmatched by any man I had ever seen, French, English or Indian. He emerged alone and walked alone and made no subtle glances back that may have indicated a secret someone.

"What took you, my Son?" Chingachgook asked in English and I was surprised to find that he, too, responded easily in the English language.

"Helping Sachem with the wigwam fire."

He turned to me expectantly,

"Uncas, meet Marie. She'll be travelling with us." Nathaniel said with amusement.

Uncas grunted and set off without a word. Chingachgook sighed and followed wearily.

We marched on for a good hour or so without a word before Nathaniel drew level with me.

"Here," he handed me a knife and a tomahawk.

"Thank you," I tucked them into my own makeshift belt, "Where'd you-"

"They're mine. Father thought it would be a good idea for you to have them because apparently you arrived with nothing but the clothes on your back and a bag of supplies."

"Truth."

"Dangerous. Keep them close,"

I nodded obediently and waited for him to go on ahead of me, only he didn't. Our attention was drawn to Uncas coming out from the undergrowth in front of us. He made eye contact with us, waving briefly before continuing on. I watched him for a while, his enigmatic self walking straight backed and steadily with a calm self-assurance.

"Uncas doesn't want to go to Ken-tukee," Nathaniel said thoughtfully. I glanced at him,

"I would never have guessed," I replied ironically, "He's been neither here nor there for a while. Why not?"

"That's the trouble with being the last of anything and in your prime. He has a duty to his father and his ancestors but, unfortunately, that puts some restrictions on his life."

"The last of the Mohicans." I said softly, "and what of your life?"

"My father adopted me when my parents died. I was only a boy. He sent us off to school to learn English and the white ways. Said it's easier to understand people when you know where they're coming from."

"Ah..." a revelation it was, "That explains that then. And you two have always gotten along? Being adopted and all..."

"It certainly does. Uncas has only just made it past his 25th summer. I'm currently in my 32nd. Though I was there before him, who was I to judge at the time? And he grew up knowing nothing better so we have our ups and downs. I've hit him a few times and he's hit me. We're brothers. Couldn'ta hoped for better one."

Nathaniel smiled fondly at the back of his Mohican brother who was being spoken to by his father rather sternly but every so often Chingachgook would give his son an affectionate slap on the back and Uncas would look his father in the eye and then return his gaze to whatever thought was first and for most in his mind. His voice was deep and sometimes it rolled back to us and it reminded me of a river. The more I looked, the more I saw a longing. He often stopped and gazed at his surroundings and sometimes he'd stop and stare blankly at a shrub. I sensed memories. But he would never voice them. I took a pause in my stride and saw his rigidity as a way of keeping himself together. Sowing up the bitter seams of want and putting forth the exterior motive of 'must' and he strove for it purposefully.

"The sun is setting." Chingachgook noted through a hole in the canopy, turning to us, "We should make camp here. George Road is not far North of here so we must be cautious."

The brothers agreed and busied themselves with making camp. Firewood from here, bits of food from there and berries they picked along the way.

"Can you make a fire?" Chingachgook asked, kneeling down by a little groove in the ground and beckoning me over from my seat on a tree root.

I knelt beside him, looking at the groove where he had started piling bits of crackling on top of each other.

"I can make one with matches and in an urn..." I looked up apologetically but he simply nodded and said,

"Good." And got up, "Hawkeye! We're going hunting."

He said that for my benefit while I stared at the tiny pile of wood.

"Same principle." I heard Chingachgook call back to me as I watched Uncas side step my little project, narrowly avoiding a misstep as he fiddled with his musket. Chingachgook said something to him and he paused, looking down at me. He pulled a box of matches from out his pack and lobbed it to me. I rolled my eyes and turned to glance at Chingachgook's back.

"Now it is." I answered, shaking the matches for emphasise but I don't think he heard me. As for Uncas, I got me his first smile.

"He does that a lot. Says things that make more sense to him than anyone else."

"It made perfect sense. I was just worried he was going to leave me without matches."

"He was going too."

"He was?"

Uncas nodded and made to sit down and rummage through his pack after having thrown his musket to Nathaniel who followed his father into the woods,

"Good luck," he said wistfully and disappeared. Uncas sat not far from me, fiddling with his pack. From out of it, he pulled a few pieces of jerky and chewed on it savagely while I lay on my stomach trying to get the fire going. I was blowing it relentlessly, albeit, gently. I managed to light something and whatever I'd lit was smoking profusely.

"It's going to go out," Uncas commented nonchalantly.

"Yup." I sat up and looked at him while he chewed.

"What?"

"Got anything alcoholic?"

"My father has some whisky from the camp. Why, got yourself a burn?"

"May I have some?"

Uncas went through his father's pack and pulled a bottle from its contents and handed it to me, watching quizzically to see what would happen next.

I took a swig and gave it back to Uncas with a nod of thanks. He had stopped chewing and I could see a small amount of boyish excitement in him. I grabbed two nearby rocks and dashed them together and as a spark took flight, I spurted the alcohol. My plan worked like a charm. The fire roared gloriously bright and wonderfully warm against the chill of the evening as the sun sank further and further behind the trees. I sat back and admired my handy work.

"Not bad, is it?" said I with elation but Uncas looked stunned.

"Nope...a little unorthodox but...good."

"I'll accept that." I grinned at my fire, imagining it grinning back at me.

"I won't tell my father you used his whisky to light the fire."

Chingachgook and his son are the same people, I swear. I looked at him blankly. The second blank look I'd given that day. He caught my eye and winked without a smile, mid-chew and I realised he was jesting. He handed me some jerky and we chewed contentedly together in a companiable silence until the others got back with two small rabbits.

Chingachgook knelt by my fire and nodded appreciatively,

"It is a good fire."

Then he went for his pack. Uncas and I shared a look when our older pulled out his bottle of whisky and studied it with displeasure. He looked at my fire a little less fondly the next time and commented grumpily,

"Resourceful... but not ideal."

Nathaniel laughed from behind me and Uncas continued to chew, enduring a small shove of his head.

"You weren't going to tell me that was a bad idea?" I stated cooly as Uncas roasted the two rabbits a little while later.

"You already knew otherwise you would have told me what you planned to do in the first place."

"Touchè. But then again, so did you."

"I did." He answered without missing a beat.

"Alright, then, look at you with your snide sense of humour."

He looked at me evenly and with a small smile.

"What of you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked in puzzlement. I told them all everything about me. What else could there have been?

"Your accent doesn't quite fit these parts. You're not from the Frontier."

"No..." it was a good observation and I eyed Uncas up steadily, taking note of a quiet intellect, a deep understanding and awareness of those that surrounded him. In the times he wasn't speaking, he was listening and apparently he was listening with a keen ear and watching with his sharp eyes. He looked up expectantly but didn't push me into an answer.

"My father was hanged because he didn't go to war. He was British. My mother was...killed because she wouldn't leave my father. She was French."

"I see. I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Uncas didn't hurry over the subject. These stories make people uncomfortable. He just sat there and let it be. It was rather a blessing not to have it brushed aside. His father had been the same and his courtesy towards not correcting my untold story for his sons touched me. Again I say, Uncas and Chingachgook were the same person. My eyes wafted over to the resting Mohican elder, his eyes transfixed on the fire before him. He said that he saw a story in me when we first met. Looking at him amidst the fire light, the shadows dancing on his face, the wrinkles here but not there, tattoos fading there but not here, I thought I saw a thousand stories. What were those thoughts that whirled in front of him? I still wonder because I never got the chance to ask.

"You can speak French, then."

I turned my attention back to Uncas with my eyebrows raised.

"Can I?"

He looked at me without reserve, rising to my witty challenge.

"Can you?"

I smiled,

"Yeah. My mother said because I was neither French nor English, I could be both."

"My father says it's good to be one but also to know where the other comes from."

"Nathaniel said as much."

"We hunt not just to eat but to understand that when at last we are hunted, we know why."

"Vengeance?"

"Not quite."

And that concluded that conversation. The rabbit was dry and left an odd tangy taste in my mouth but it was food and it did the trick for a body aching and hungry from a long days trek.

We followed the likes of George Road for 3 weeks, staying near but never walked it. In that time, I was taught to use my knife and tomahawk correctly. I grew stronger, fitter and more worldly. I learned a lot, not just from my new companions, but from the wilderness. I grew wiser but my directions didn't get any better. Twice I was set the task to lead the pack, twice Chingachgook said,

"Nevermind."

But, over our 3 weeks of trekking, nothing eventful happened. Until it finally did. Gunshots and shocked screams, neigh-ing horses and screaming braves. Screams of war. I'd only heard it once before and the effects are pretty devastating to one's nerves.

"Help? Or go?" Chingachgook asked us all as we gathered together, listening to the commotion. Uncas was getting his musket ready. Nathaniel was more cautious,

"We don't know how many they are. We go to help and risk never making it Ken-tukee."

Chingachgook nodded but I could see the wonder in his face. The age old question, if I do not go, will I live forever wondering if I could have done something for the right people? He looked at me for Uncas had already decided what he was to do. Chingachgook would not leave his son, Nathaniel was reserved about the situation. My choice would decide our fates.

"I think we should take a look..." I suggested, not in and not out, my morals intact.

"You will be a distraction. Walk straight into it. Make them see you. We will be in the undergrowth. Surprise attack. Make yourself known." Chingachgook squeezed my shoulder and then he and the sons disappeared and I was left to wonder up onto the road feeling rather...not good about the idea of walking straight into a fight. A knife and a tomahawk was all I had. That, and being a distraction was not what I suggested.

"Chingachgook..." I muttered angrily.

I jogged down the road towards the commotion and realised the plan was doomed to fail. English soldiers were being outnumbered by Huron warriors. Their scrambling for honour and order killing them more quickly than would they have settled for firing at will.

I was shocked. Unsure of what to do. But then again, it would be immoral to have turned and run and besides, there was no reason for the attack. The British were clearly not looking for one. A brave man was prepared to take the Huron on with only a sword whilst defending two cowering women. A man after my own heart, thought I, admiring his cutlass. So I legged it. I raced into battle with my tomahawk brandished and went straight for the first man I saw about to get his throat cut. I surprised the Huron with my arrival and buried my tomahawk in his head which disgusted me. My body seized up upon the crunch of bone. And then I couldn't get it out. So I left it and lashed daringly with my knife. I got a few but not before Chingachgook, Uncas and Nathaniel came roaring in with their clattering muskets and perfect shots that probably saved us all. I stopped my aimless lashings when I finally outdid a Huron warrior and stepped back mildly horrified. Surrounded by death and the smell of blood was wafting towards me and I felt myself gag. I looked around and spied a Huron warrior taking aim. I followed his line of fire and landed on the two women. I looked back at the Huron. I saw that Nathaniel had seen him too and so I stupidly decided that it was a good idea to step in this Huron's way. I did this and instantly regretted it. I shut my eyes and squeezed tight, waiting to die.

A shot went off some moments later and suddenly everything was still. I opened my eyes to find myself still very much alive.

"You fool!" Nathaniel yelled at me, rising from his knees.

"You slow!" I fired back, "How long does it take to shoot somebody?"

"You could have been shot."

"So could have you!"

"You had no gun! No nothing!"

"And yet you took forever to shoot."

"Don't pin this on me!"

"I won't if you stop arguing with me."

Nathaniel did as I suggested and turned his attention to the trio now standing frazzled and disorientated one behind the other.

"Who are you?" The soldier demanded. Nathaniel smirked

"You're welcome."

"That's Nathaniel, Chingachgook, Uncas," I said ignoring Nathaniel and his contemptuous regard, and pointing to each in turn including myself, "Marie."

The soldier, still weary of us, said nothing. Instead the elder of the two girls, dark haired and cautious but with a subtle fire about her, stepped forward bravely.

"This is Major Duncan Haywards of the 33rd regiment." (which meant nothing) "And I am Cora Munro and this is my sister, Alice. We're indebted to you."

"What happened to you?" Nathaniel ventured while Chingachgook and Uncas went about pick-pocketing the dead. I was temporarily distracted by that, that I missed the story – something about ambush and a Mohawk actually being a Huron. They were on their way to Albany.

I came to when Uncas brushed passed me and the others to scatter the horses. This brought about no small amount of distress from the young Munro girl, who flew over Uncas to try and stop them,

"What are you doing? We need-!"

But Uncas' firm grasp and steady gaze locked on her and she on him and suddenly they both froze. Taken aback by what was in front of them, so much so that they stumbled a little. I cocked my head and then the moment was over.


	2. Chapter 2

Uncas was saying something about the horses being too easy to track. He looked slightly puzzled as he left the young woman in his wake. She gawked after him with a look of awe. He didn't look back at all.

I tore my eyes from her expression and looked around but no one seemed to have noticed the minor exchange. Of what the exchange was I could not say.

"We'll take you to Albany." Nathaniel said abruptly, shouldering his sling-bag as he did so. Chingachgook nodded affirmatively and Uncas stood by motionless but I suspected he welcomed that decision. I was displeased.

"The road isn't safe, especially if you're being hunted." He finished knowingly.

"Hunted?" The man, Hayward looked exasperated, "Whatever do you mean?"

"The Huron man we mentioned earlier. He was aiming at you, Miss." He gestured at Cora who had been stunned into a wordless stupor, her mouth opening and closing with no words to justify her actions until at last,

"Why?"

Nathaniel straightened in surprise,

"I'd thought you'd tell us..."

"No, we've never seen him before! Not ever."

"Have you?" Nathaniel turned to Hayward who was still looking irritably at us which, in my displeasure, was beginning to work on my nerves.

"No, I only arrived yesterday, how could I have?"

"Because we knew that." I snapped, making strange eye contact with Alice and then turning away to stand a long side Chingachgook who laid a hand gently upon my shoulder while Nathaniel elaborated on the plan with our new companions.

"Illinois will have to wait, child." He said softly to me as if he had read my thoughts.

"Albany is right back the way we came. You can't be serious about doubling back on ourselves?" I responded incredulously, the concept was folly, George Road was a long, boring walk. The thought of back tracking made my heart sink.

"Actually it's a little further South." Uncas cut in casually, "If we followed the road, we'd get there in double the time. Cutting straight through will get us there in just over a week."

"South?" my heart dropped further, "I can't go South! I'm trying to escape South!"

Uncas didn't respond and Chingachgook looked gravely at me,

"Do what you think is right."

The thought to carry on alone, as I believe Chingachgook suspected, had crossed my mind. And I entertained it greatly as Nathaniel and company talked it over, the pros and the cons of such an endeavour. After all, I had initially set off to accomplish the task alone. It was pure luck and a bad sense of direction that landed me in the same camp as the Mohican. All that had happened was that I had grown comfortable with the company and with the knowledge that we would almost always be going in the right direction. I could not guarantee that with myself.

I turned to look at the trio, as if eyeing them up might help me make a decision. My eyes fell upon the Alice girl, standing quietly in the background and taking everything in. She looked frightened but not lost. She held the same world weary gaze and quiet intellect as Uncas. I imagined this was a trait that was overlooked simply because she was young, after all, her sister had the fiery awareness that dominated anything with less fervour.

She listened keenly to the outcome when Nathaniel turned to us all and stated grandly,

"To Albany!"

"How will we be getting there, Sir?" The dark haired Cora asked politely but her voice shook slightly from the after shock. I pitied her for my hands still shook too.

"Follow the river. And the name's Nathaniel, Miss but if you want to stick to your formalities, you can call me 'Mr Poe'." And he turned from her and walked briskly passed us.

Uncas and Chingachgook waited for the others to follow though they seemed hesitant. Cora glanced at Hayward, Hayward glanced back, Alice gazed sceptically at them both until at last Hayward moved, followed by the girls. Uncas nodded at his father and followed not long after.

Chingachgook watched me closely, watched me make my decision. I gave in and bowed my head in submission. His knowing smile reached his eyes and he turned and walked away from me. I sighed heavily and started after him grudgingly. But then had to come back to collect my tomahawk. That made me thoroughly miserable.

The river walk was special, though, the beauty of our surroundings shone like I had never seen it before. The water glistened under the rays of the sun and the surrounding shrubbery and woodland was greener and thicker because of it. I found myself not hating the road one bit. Before long, i was rather fond of my decision.

Chingachgook had moved on ahead, outpacing us all and Uncas fell back to the rear. Then came Alice and myself and ahead was Hayward and Cora with all her questions being thrown at a grumpy looking Nathaniel Poe.

We eventually came to a waterfall which had no easy way around it. It had to be climbed. Nathaniel and Chingachgook were up and away in a blink while Hayward stumbled up and knelt to assist Cora. Once she was up, he forgot completely about young Alice and marched straight on after Cora. I noted this scornfully and then thought better of it. He had stuck close to Cora all the while. I suspected that he had more than the meagre intension to get the girls to their father safely. There at every stumble, watching Closely every encounter with anyone other than himself. I shook my head. He was obvious and grew more so the more I looked whilst Cora's interests lay elsewhere.

I had sat down briefly, readjusting my pack, watching all of this. When it came time for Alice to make the climb, I found myself rather fascinated. I watched her disregard the fact that Hayward had abandoned her and take matters into her own hands. She eyed the slippery slope evenly, deciding what limbs went where before she slowly started. In those moments I became aware that Uncas had either stopped or had something happen to him. I turned to look for him and found him doing the same as I. He had stopped to watch Alice. He had stopped dead still. I could not read his face, I don't think he fully understood what he was looking at either.

Chingachgook broke our fascination and came to the sudden rescue, reaching down to take Alice's arm to help her up. She was obviously relieved and showed her gratitude towards the older Mohican by presenting him with a small, courteous nod. The elder man returned it but looked disgruntled as he shot a rigid look over at Hayward who had the decency to look a little guilty. Alice said nothing.

When they had disappeared over the top, only then did Uncas move. I realised that perhaps he had not noticed my sitting there. He dropped his head thoughtfully and then continued on. The sun on his face had him narrow his eyes and it made him look quite fierce but it was there again. The same, brief puzzlement upon looking at the fragile miss.

He climbed up nimbly and disappeared over the top too until it was just me. I sat a while longer with my musings until at last my eyes were drawn to the sky. Uncas was not prepared to accept his position as the last hope for his people, for his father, try as he might.

And to throw a pebble in the works, life had presented him with an obstacle he was not expecting. _Oh fate, what have you done?_

A little further a long the line, my feet were killing me and my legs were growing stiff from the constant downhill that we'd been trolling down for the past hour. Alice, who was in front of me, stopped abruptly and I swung wide to avoid her but took a misstep and stumbled into Uncas. He caught me by my arm but that lead me to swing even more and I found myself looking at the reason for Alice's sudden halt.

Smoke on the horizon. Everyone ahead of us had stopped too, sizing up the problem. Chingachgook and Nathaniel shared a worried glance and looked up,

"Stay here." Nathaniel ordered and made his way down, Chingachgook on his heels. Uncas jogged down slowly, with his musket ready, to catch up.

"What are they doing?" Hayward demanded of me. I didn't answer because...what sort of question is that? Moments passed and nothing happened, no sounds could be heard.

"I haven't heard anything in a while..." Cora mused, coming up to stand beside me, "Do you suppose everything's alright?"

"I don't know..." I looked around and realised the next decision was on me. Without the Frontiersman, the wild and our occupation of it was on my head. A strange feeling, brief and unforgettable, "Alright let's go. Stay close and Hayward...just...stay behind us."

We crept down the side of the hill, all but tiptoe-ing. Alice stuck close to her sister who held her hand bravely but looked worried herself. Hayward's sword was drawn and his eyes darted from place to place in high vigilance. We made it to the clearing and saw nothing. I glanced behind me, regretful yet again that all I had was a knife and a tomahawk.

A cabin stood in the centre of the clearing, smoking and broken. The smell of burning wood made it to my nostrils and I grimaced. From inside stepped Uncas, his shoulders drooped heavily and he walked over to two figures hunched over something. Chingachgook and Nathaniel, I realised. With no signs of struggle other than what was already before us, I decided it was safe to make an appearance.

Upon our arrival, their little huddle broke off and Nathaniel rose from off his haunches. Chingachgook and Uncas remained where they were and gazed sullenly at the burned cabin. I looked around and held in a gasp at the sight of the child's body beneath a wooden beam. But Alice gasped instead and Cora stumbled forward instantly,

"What happened here?" she breathed, kneeling by the body before spotting another and another and eventually turning away.

Uncas and Chingachgook said something we did not understand which caused Hayward to stir arrogantly,

"What did you say?"

"War party." Nathaniel stated blandly, "and we should go."

"They deserve a proper burial." Cora demanded defiantly, the hurt gone from her face, "Strangers though they may be."

I saw the unsteady resentment flash across Chingachgook and his son's face but neither of them said anything to counter it. I caught Alice's expression and found that she had seen the look of the Mohican's too. It caused her to drift away from her sister slightly, not wanting to be associated with an incorrect assumption. I didn't know who they were either but they obviously weren't strangers.

"I agree with Miss Cora." Hayward came to stand by Cora, "We must bury them. No one should be left in such a state."

"They'll have to this time, I'm afraid. So they stay as they lay." Nathaniel responded without looking back. Alice had removed herself entirely from the situation and was slowly drifting up towards Uncas who was awaiting the outcome patiently.

"I will not leave them here, to do so would be too cruel! Just as cruel as your indifference!" she spat, her voice shaking. And a deadly silence fell upon us like a blanket of fog; thick, heavy and with an unsteady end.

Nathaniel turned on his heal and marched towards Cora with his jaw set and eyes hard,

"They are not strangers, Miss," He hissed, "And they stay as they lay."

Cora was visibly shocked by the sudden turn of events, causing Hayward to try and be honourable; stupid but honourable,

"How dare you approach a lady like such!"

"Quiet, Soldier." I said sternly, surprising even myself. He scowled at me but said no more. I trudged back up the hill, following the others and taking note of how Uncas quietly waited for Alice to slip past him. She glanced back, he glanced forward and I marched straight on leaving Hayward and Cora to assemble themselves.

"That was good." Chingachgook said suddenly and softly to me as we made quiet headway towards Albany and away from the cabin.

"What?"

"Telling the white man to hold his tongue."

I looked at Chingachgook, baffled by his praise, "He was getting on my nerves."

"Ours too," He gestured towards Uncas, still trekking steadily on without tiring, "But we would never tell him to hush."

"Why?"

"White people never keep still. He doesn't trust us."

"Doesn't trust anyone here to be fair."

"No," Chingachgook looked at me, "But if you did not, we would not have either."

Bless them for letting the ignorance of others wash over them. Curse him for saying 'Thank you' in the most obscure way possible. He sailed on past me as I took a tumble whilst in thought. J heard him laugh gently and with a tinge of melancholy as he walked away. _He says thanks and then leaves me to fall._

I got up and felt the grim harshness of irritation leave me. Chingachgook was quiet, humble and the epitome of the noble Mohican race but he had a mischievous streak that came out at strange times. His gentle amusement humbled me in turn and I felt honoured to be someone he was comfortable enough with laughing either at or with.

"Are you alright?"

I turned to find a bright-eyed, flushed of cheek Alice Munro looking at me with concern. Her eyes were a lovely oval shape, inquisitive and blue like water. Shining a little brighter from excursion, they now glistened like water in the sun.

"Yes," I replied with a strange contented sigh despite the bleak atmosphere of our little band, "I'm not meant for the Frontier."

Alice looked thoughtful. Behind her, Cora and Hayward were talking quietly. They still looked offended. Nathaniel was chewing on something and bringing up the rear having swapped places with Uncas.

"Neither am I." She answered sheepishly but I think she was frightfully aware that we all knew that. I offered her my warmest smile,

"Well you haven't fallen yet, so..." I said blandly and started on, gesturing for Alice to do the same. I got a little smile from her and that gave me a sense of pride. I was earning smiles left, right and centre. I might have been useless in the Frontier but I could make it smile at the very least.

Alice stuck close to me from then on out. Having found another somewhat misplaced soul. Someone she related to if only because I had fallen in the wilderness while others held their balance without problems. We got to a point where it became alright to giggle at each other when one or the other of us stumbled. It made the trek bearable and it felt good to admit that, manners be damned, stumbling people was funny. We made a game out of it, watching people closely for any sign of a trip. Hayward tripped himself up once and Alice and I glanced back and then forward again to hide our amusement for fear of offending the already offended soldier.

Cora tripped next and Alice snorted a little too loudly which drew a rather harsh protest from her sister. Alice looked immediately ashamed and with that came the end of our game. With the end of our game came the return of the dismal feel of our current reality. Alice concentrated hard on not falling but no matter how hard, she still did and I saw her face scrunch up and berate herself inwardly. Every time he did, though, Uncas turned abruptly. It wasn't always to look at Alice and I feel that that was the purpose. He was hiding his attraction, perhaps even denying it but his senses were ever on alert to her quiet outbursts of dismay. He would react to everything but would never make it obvious as to what he was reacting too. But by then, I figured I had him worked out even if he hadn't.

We settled for the evening in a little corner of the woods, if one could call it that. It was cosy and out of the way and if anyone wanted specifics, it was otherwise called a glade. No fire was made and supper, if you would, was quick. A meal of left over rabbit meat and berries. It was enough and the girls picked at it courteously though without enthusiasm. I sympathised for i, too, was not particularly fond of it. No matter how much time you spend as a traveller, your likes and dislikes never go away. It just becomes dependant on how dire your situation was. As of yet, ours wasn't and we had a back up plan if anyone was really that picky.

Hayward was reluctant altogether and claimed he was not hungry. Nobody tried to convince him otherwise, not even Cora. So the back up plan was dismissed.

Cora.

Wild-fire. Put her in my Delaware clothes and she would fit into the wilderness like a cloud fits the sky. I briefly imagined her in one of the native camps and the image, to my surprise, wasn't as jolting as I thought it might be. I raised my eyebrows at myself and let the thought drift away into the twilight.

Nobody said much as the evening drew on. The night settled in not long after us and what little talk there was died altogether. Nathaniel settled a little way away, leaning against a fallen tree. A rustle happened not far from me and I turned my head from where I had decided to rest to see the ghostly flutter of Cora's skirts as she scuttled away from Hayward to Nathaniel where she settled.

Her fascination with Frontiersman didn't go unnoticed by the disgruntled Hayward. His jealousy made his tired brow furrow and there was a sad blink of his eyes before he rolled over and I could see his face no more. For the first time since meeting them, I felt sorry for the major. I'd never experienced a rejection from the opposite sex before so I could hardly say I knew what it felt like but emotional pain always ran deeper than the physical and it was always the smaller, more subtle twitches of the face that gave it away.

I knew about that, at least.

Alice was sleeping restlessly off to my right, twisting and turning and trying desperately to find a comfortable position. Chingachgook leaned against a nearby tree, his head lolling back but nothing about his position said he was asleep. Uncas, in between Chingachgook and Alice sat with his legs crossed and his musket resting across them, staring off into the night. He spared a glance in mine and Alice's direction every once in a while but did no more.

A few more moments past and then the thought that I should have taken a musket on George Road crossed my mind. I held in a growl of annoyance and the want of sleep slipped away. I sat up and sat like Uncas, just gazing.

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly, careful not to disrupt the stillness. I shook my head,

"Too much to think about."

He went silent.

"Are you alright?" I asked, the memory of the bodies at the cabin suddenly making themselves known. I heard rather than saw him shift to look at me,

"It hurts a little. But they're with the spirits now. I can't ask for a better place for them to be."

I looked up at the stars, blinking back at me. I had an impulse to wave and I followed that impulse and felt glad of it. If the family from the cabin was up there somewhere, so was mine and so I waved once and never again as a final acknowledgement of their absence.

Moments went by again and moments turned into minutes and minutes turn into hours and the soft snores of those who could sleep rose up into the night while those of us who could not, sat still.

But our wakefulness did not go to waste. My ears pricked and my heart stopped at the sound of soft footsteps heading our way. Voices followed, only whispers, urgent and frantic. I listened more intently and found them to be French speaking. I looked at Nathaniel, he was musket ready and Cora had a hand gun. I almost laughed at my stupidity. Even the inexperienced English woman had more sense than I. No matter, I like to think I had gotten pretty good with my tomahawk and knife, not to mention it was quieter.

"Pssst!"

I looked around in my ready state to find Chingachgook waving at me. He threw me the very thing I had been stressing about along with gunpowder to fill it up. I thanked him profusely to the best of my hindered abilities and got myself trigger ready. I felt powerful with the weapon in my hands, more confident, more alert. A sound to my right drew my attention away from in front of me. I found that our attackers were coming in at an arch. I shifted quietly to face the other way, I glanced behind me and saw Chingachgook facing the other way. We were surrounded.

I listened intently to what the French were saying to each other, looking for any information regarding their night-time creeping.

"Porter en avant!" one whispered urgently to the other, a Mohawk who had hesitated, "Aller!"

"No!"

"Pourquoi?"

"Burial ground...nouse ne pouvons pas."

I looked up the hill and indeed there was a Burial ground. Terribly eerie, incredibly haunting. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. As well as this might have worked to our advantage, it felt instinctively as though we were trespassing. In my discomfort, I became aware of short, shallow breaths behind me. The very real sound of fear.

I turned around again and saw Alice, having just awoken very disorientated to the look of danger.

I made a face and looked ahead to see whether our intruders had heard anything. It didn't appear so.

Alice's breathing suddenly went quiet. I turned back again in a little bit of panic. Had she passed out from fear? Did she suddenly die?

Uncas had clamped his hand over her mouth and wound his arm around her waist and was holding her close and steady. His head was bowed to her ear as if to whisper something to her. Shut up, maybe? I don't know. I was focused solely on making an escape plan – a plan B should the worst suddenly happen. Though I might say this on the matter, Uncas looked comfortable and Alice lay quite still in his embrace.

My escape plan wasn't needed. The Mohawk and the French backed off in search of a way around. When the coast was clear, Nathaniel and Cora found their way back to us as Chingachgook and myself gathered closer.

Hayward looked defenceless. I daren't ask why.

"Close one." Nathaniel said quietly, his relief evident.

"Why did they move off?" Cora looked flushed with her nerves shot, her eyes bright in the darkness.

Nobody answered. I glanced around and so it was that nobody knew.

"Burial ground." I answered, baffled by that which know one appeared to realise.

"What Burial Ground?" Nathaniel asked sharply, Chingachgook was already looking around.

"Behind us." I gestured albeit a bit vaguely.

"What?"

"Look up." And then turned properly to point up at the hanging bones and unsettling carvings that were strung up from what looked like a failed tree house.

A collective 'ooh' sounded and I turned to them, my questioning aimed at the three trackers,

"I thought you might have known!"

No answer, "Unbelievable."

"Looks like your French speaking background came in handy. If you didn't tell us, we might never have known." Nathaniel glanced at his father who spoke in Mohican to his son who agreed, "We can't stay here."

"You mean to move? Now?" Hayward whispered incredulously, "Madness!"

"You can stay here if you wish." Nathaniel whispered back scornfully, "but I don't recommend it."

With that, it was settled, we would move. Uncas had long since brought his hand away from Alice's mouth but his arm remained around her waist, clutching her to him even whilst debating the Burial Ground situation. Alice didn't make an attempt to his escape his clutches during that time either.

We separated, collecting our things. Uncas finally let go of Alice and as he looked down, he caught her eye. I honed in on it like a moth to the light. Alice crumbled under the weight of Uncas' gaze. Looking away quickly, she scrambled away from him to reassemble herself by her sister. Uncas' steady eyes stuck with her a while longer even as he moved to get his own things together.

 _That was bold._ I thought as I stood up, _very bold._

The look of puzzlement that went hand in hand with his looking at Alice was gone. I wondered if it were only a fleeting bravery and whether the puzzlement and sense of duty would come back or whether the denial was over. On other hand, whatever happened there flustered Alice and she couldn't quite bring herself to look at the young Mohican again.

I peaked at Chingachgook as he watched his son curiously. His arms were folded over his chest and he grunted unhappily upon his Mohican son's departure. Uncas either didn't see it or ignored it. I crept passed him to follow the others. Treading past a grumpy Chingachgook was to tread on egg shells. As it were, we were already doing so. Besides the Burial Ground situation, a Huron name had been mentioned in passing. A man by the name of Magua. Magua was searching for two English woman who were the daughters of the Colonel at Albany otherwise known as the 'Grey Hair', I believe it was. I put two and two together and realised we were in a little bit more trouble than anticipated. The reason for their intended capture was never mentioned so I decided to keep this information to myself until I knew more about what was happening. It was a mistake and I should have known it as I stared at the backs of Cora and Nathaniel and Uncas and Alice.

Uncas and Alice, now that had a ring to it I couldn't ignore.


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the night had us all awake and alert. Dawn crept up on us lazily, the sun peeping over the canopy as if it had climbed a mountain to get to us.

No sooner had it made itself known, however, than did we continue on our arduous journey. This morning, the weight of going in the wrong direction sat heavily on my shoulders. It must have shown on my face because Chingachgook strayed to my side and knocked me gently,

"It will not be long. I will keep my word to you, traveller, you will get to Illinois and the forests of the Iroquois."

I looked at him, peering at the bags under his eyes and the shadow of fatigue that rested on his brow, the worry that wrinkled his forehead and his sharp but ever dulling eyes. They were the same colour as Uncas', only not as bright. Another sign of his age. He was the first and only person to have ever referred to me as a traveller, making use of it as if it were my name. I liked it but I felt that I was not deserving of it and that gave my name a bitter taste.

"Don't look so." Chingachgook scorned, "I can only do so much."

"I know you can," I said hurriedly, my face betraying my thoughts for the worst, "I have no doubt that I will get there and I appreciate your help no matter the circumstances –"

"So formal. Did I not laugh as you fell?" He wondered aloud and my head dropped in confirmation, "I thought us past formalities. I thought you might be waiting for my fall."

"I'd die of fright before I laughed at you." I chuckled, my mood lifting with each moment.

"Be careful, now, I am not that old." He gave me a stern look but I could see his eyes, how amused they seemed. So I shrugged.

"So what did your expression mean?"

"Traveller."

"You have come far."

"With you." I said sardonically, "Hardly counts."

"And traveller does not have to physically move all the time which you do. But your mind," He gestured a wheel turning, "Never still. I think Illinois is your first stop. Where to next, I wonder."

He smiled at me, not even I had thought that far. He was right. I observed profusely but I have yet to draw attention to the other thoughts in my head. I won't for the sake of drawing away from what was and is important, but those thoughts, thoughts of adventure and life and what the outcome of one choice over another might be. Worry; ever present.

"What do you make of the women?"

Chingachgook's voice wafted in from the outside of my busy mind and I turned to him, breathing in the fresh morning air to bring myself back to the present. He waited patiently while I gathered said thoughts.

"Well Cora is something." I said flatly, I had not much to say about her as I had not actually spoken to her, nor to Hayward. They were the ones that were worlds away from me. Hayward because that man and myself just didn't get along. Not that I tried. But neither did he and every tingle in me just didn't tingle the right way when with him. His arrogance frustrated me. Cora, I could not place the problem – or if there was one. Maybe I envied her, her outward strength. Nathaniel and her appeared to have had settled their differences and because they were the fire lying in wait in the group, that came as a relief.

"Strong willed." Chingachgook agreed, nodding approvingly, "She will be a good wife for Hawkeye."

I was surprised,

"They have your blessing before _they_ even know what's happening? Well...I suppose that's always a good thing."

"Don't act like you have not seen it."

Of course I had. I said nothing, eliciting a wry smile in place of a response.

"Uncas, I do not know."

"Neither do I." I answered quickly, my wry smile disappearing.

"Something has happened. He says less than usual. His thoughts are deep but he does not tell me. I think the girl is involved but she is so quiet, I cannot think of an answer for her either."

I looked at my older, his face vexed and his tone dire.

"Do you know?"

I had never seen the wizened Mohican so lost over something so petty. It seemed petty but I suppose when you are the last of anything and your priorities change, it could worry those around you. Had Uncas' priorities changed though? To what extent? He had expressed a small amount of interest or mere fascination and his actions were that of a gentleman's.

I had guessed his confusion to be linked to this fascination. Alice's beauty was her gentility and I think Uncas related to it. He had expected a fascination of sorts to rear its curious head at some point but I don't think he anticipated it with an entirely different culture. He might have been confused by the fact that his fascination rose from that face alone. That she was different to him and from somewhere that may as well have been not of this earth. I think the confusion I kept seeing was because he had not expected beauty to be so relatable and at the same time, so very far apart. But then again, I had seen that confusion disappear earlier in the morning and I had to find out whether it was back or not.

"So...you speak French." I looked up and found Alice waiting for me to catch up, Chingachgook had long since moved off and away in thought. Often looking to the sky for answers.

I nodded.

"I learnt a small amount in school but I never put it into practice." She said wistfully, her cheeks were reddening and she was slightly short of breath. I guessed that she stopped to wait for me as an excuse to simply stop. She was determined not to show her weakness which was admirable.

"Now's your chance." I offered but Alice looked away, the smallest of smiles on her lips,

"No, I dare not. What a fool I'd make of myself."

I was about to respond but my name was called from a far. I looked for the caller and found myself looking at Nathaniel,

"When you ladies finish up your chat, if you'd like to make your way down, you might be in time for some food!"

"We're stopping..." Alice sounded relieved. I'd give her that one for I too was tired and hungry. But I wasn't going to give Nathaniel the benefit of the doubt. I didn't respond. I waved him off and he said no more.

Uncas watched our descent to the river a little more closely, he stood stoic and tall and rather handsome at the bottom. But he soon sat down realising that the worst was over.

We sat and ate in a compatible silence, chewing dully on berries and jerky and gazing wistfully out over the flowing river.

A water flask was passed around but it ran out before it reached Alice or myself. Uncas opted to go fill it up,

"I'll bring it to you." He said nonchalantly, his dark eyes darting between us two but resting on Alice. We watched Uncas make his careful way down to the river edge and bend to get the water and straighten again to bring it back up.

But a mere few feet away from us, something went wrong. I don't think anybody could have quite pinned what but the young Mohican, always so sure of foot and filled with unfaltering elegance, took a misstep. In a manner most uncharacteristic of himself, Uncas slipped and had limbs flying in all sorts of directions before he finally hit the ground on his stomach, palms out ahead of him and a grunt of pain followed by an expression of utter dumbfounded puzzlement. It would appear that he was just as perplexed by the cause as the rest of us.

I would have said that Nathaniel was the first to acknowledge the accident but instead it was Alice.

A gentle carefree laughter carried us over the hump of the previous days despair. Not even Cora's amused scolding could stop her. Chingachgook's shoulders bobbed in silent hilarity and even Hayward smiled.

Nathaniel was obviously not letting his brother off easy.

Uncas got up off the ground, wiping his hands on his buckskins. He smiled sheepishly before he too, simply laughed. That in itself was somewhat magical. Uncas had been straight faced for a month and here was. He sounded free and it was an endearing laugh. For such a low voice, it naturally went higher.

Alice giggled incessantly and I realised her laugh in particular had no connection to Uncas' fall but rather to his own. I felt my laughter die to giggles and further more to a contented smile. This was the first time they'd looked at each other without caution.

We never left that little place by the river. It was safe for then and we were happy there, us, people of the Frontier.

I sat quietly by a tree, chomping on a few berries we'd picked up along the way. We had decided against the fire as we were in open grounds regardless of how safe we felt and besides, the night was warm and we had enough to keep the chill out.

Chingachgook sat down next to me with a puff and a sigh, reaching into my lap for my berries. I looked at him with a fair amount of reproach seeing as though we had more berries in his carrier bag. But mine I suppose, were easier to reach. Needless to say he ignored my face.

"What are you thinking about this war?" He asked thoughtfully.

"I think it's stupid."

"It is a noble fight."

I snorted, throwing more berries into my mouth, "Whose nobility are they fighting for? The land isn't even theirs."

"The white men are foolish but honour is in their every move. It is a noble thing to fight for honour."

"I disagree."

"You are angry."

"I am. Leave America to the Americans."

"I agree. The fight will be over eventually. I had intended to get away from it because I can't afford it."

"So had I!" I looked at him, words wanting to pour from my mouth. Words about how this damn thing would be the death of us and indeed them, the Mohicans. How far away we were from the initial goal. How I was only able to suppress my frustration for only so long before conversations like these would bring it to the surface again.

Chingachgook must have seen it for he gave my shoulder a squeeze and then continued.

"Meeting these people has changed something in my sons. The dark haired Miss Munro can't take her eyes off my white son. They talk for hours about nothing. My other son...he says less now than he ever did. He is scared to speak."

My eyes drifted to the young Mohican sitting on a rock near the firelight and carving out a piece of wood he'd found. His face was laced with concentration and Alice watched in intrigue how, piece by piece, the wood came to life.

"Scared to speak..." I repeated thoughtfully, "Maybe."

Or maybe it was because the lack of words suited Alice better than fruitless chatter. He was adapting.

"You see more than most. You've always had a wondering eye. Have you spotted these things? I worry that my younger son has found something in the child."

"She's not a child."

The words came quickly and without warning. They were necessary. Alice was not a child. I had seen it. Chingachgook looked at me in surprise.

"See? You see."

And he went silent and I with him. I dared not entertain his worry because a part of me did not want to upset something that had barely begun. And there _was_ something and it was growing in the silence there as I watched them.

I woke up in the night, the moon straight above me and as I stuck out my hand, I saw no shadow. 12am. Bang in the middle of the night.

The sound of hushed voices wafted through the air and I could distinguish only the one. Uncas.

I sat up and looked to the river. Uncas and Alice sat on the river bank, their silhouettes given a hazy hew under the moonlight. It looked a dream.

They sat quite close with only Uncas's musket between them and their conversation seemed mundane and yet...

Forgive me my confession, because I eavesdropping. I don't regret it.

"It's not far - Albany." He whispered, "You can fix your hair soon."

"Blasted knots, is all it is." Alice returned, dragging her hand through her loose hair, silver in the half light

"I wouldn't mind it out here if it wasn't for my hair. It looks awful."

"It looks lovely. I like it down. Suits you."

...

...

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"What will you do once we get to Albany?"

"I don't know. Father will want to go to Ken-tukee. He's got his heart set on finding me a Delaware woman. Marie wants to get to Illinois, fast."

Yes she certainly did.

"What do you want?"

"I didn't care for Ken-tukee much but I didn't mind. I care less for it now."

"Why's that?"

Yes, I thought, why is that, Uncas? And I leaned forward to hear the truth of it, straining my ears to the best of my abilities.

"Not sure yet."

Alice hmm'd to herself, all the while dragging her fingers through her hair until she let out a small growl of frustration at it.

Uncas got up, then and replaced himself, cross legged behind her,

"Here." He said, pushing her hands away until she submitted and sat still while Uncas did the work of de-knotting her hair, "I got it."

It was a lovely scene and it seemed natural. As if that was a part of a grand plan all along. Just that little moment.

I saw how he started to braid it, carefully and with fingers that fumbled not. I saw a bond being woven as he did so. In the way Alice sat so comfortably between his legs and how their conversation flowed easily. I smiled at the irony. For the two quietest people in the group, they did have an awful lot to say to each other.

I lay back down again, my eyes drifting shut to the sound of their voices and the moon above me.

The next morning I woke to the smell of fire. I panicked briefly and sat up. Chingachgook put a finger to his lips and hushed me. I relaxed, no threat. Just breakfast. I scooted over to the fire and eyed up a sleeping Alice who lay comfortably on a folded shirt that appeared to have been one of Uncas' and whose braid was gone and her hair was up.

I frowned.

Uncas lay not far from her, his head propped comfortably on his pack and lulled in a manner that were he to open his eyes, the first thing he'd see would be the sleeping English girl.

"Did you sleep alright?"

I looked at Chingachgook, my thoughts heaved away from the strange duo. I nodded,

"Woke up in the night. Couldn't get comfortable."

"Hmm."

Chingachgook, a man of many words. But in all fairness, I hadn't much to say at such an hour either. Chingachgook, having taken the last watch, had been up for at least 2 hours already.

Person by person the company began to wake. Alice was the last and bashfully handed Uncas back his shirt.

He held her gaze for longer than was necessary before he took it back with a small smile and put it back in his pack and looked to his family for directions.

For a moment they all looked lost and then they all looked at me albeit briefly. Still, it drew from me a feeling of astonished confusion.

"Can I help in anyway?" I asked almost sarcastically. Chingachgook nodded but once,

"Lead us back to Albany. Which way do we go?"

I hesitated,

"North East." And held my breath and then pointed in the same direction we had been trudging in the day before to confirm.

I saw the amusement in the eyes of the men and my resolve fell out from beneath me. I grimaced at Chingachgook.

He had none of the amusement held in his sons. Instead he turned away leaving me with only,

"Right way wrong direction. Maybe tomorrow."

I sighed and watched as he glided into the undergrowth. Nathaniel and Cora close behind, followed by Hayward.

"I wouldn't worry," Alice said kindly, coming up beside me, "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Thanks, Alice." I appreciated her attempt at fixing my directorial incompetence but bless her, she hadn't been wondering around with seasoned trackers for the past 6 weeks.

She marched on a head of me and Uncas watched her walk past him with a smile of amusement. The he turned to me, wounded still by my disability.

"It will come right, eventually."

"Which way are we going?"

"South East."

"Oh! I wasn't too far off."

"No but if we walked North, we'd land up 200 miles from Albany. Got to get it right."

"Yes, thank you." I said irritably,

Uncas chuckled and we walked in silence. I was aware of Uncas' vigilance but Alice kept looking back. Once she looked back and I turned back in tow to catch something and I did. Believe it or not, Uncas is capable of blushing. His ebony sun-kissed skin goes slightly darker but he has the courage to maintain his gaze. Alice could not.

He had been meeting her gaze every time. It was quite a gaze. I thought then would be a good time to broach the subject.

I slowed and Uncas caught up with me reluctantly.

"So, Alice Munro's lovely isn't she?" I said softly, trying to lace my amusement with warmth but I might have failed. I wouldn't know. Uncas' stoicism was back and his blush irradicated as if it were never there.

He didn't respond.

"I woke up to you two last night. You sure talk a lot for people who don't say anything at the best of times."

"She's interesting."

"What do you find interesting about her?"

"Marie." He groaned and left me behind, "You keep watch!"

He threw over his shoulder and suddenly it was just me. I rolled my eyes and readied my gun. Uncas, however, went to Alice a little more freely.


	4. Chapter 4

It took time and many days but I found myself in the middle of a blossoming friendship where the roots ran deep and the bonds grew thick. As Alice and I spent more time talking about nothing, it in turn drew Uncas to us and soon we were what anyone would call friends.

Uncas, ever since my broaching of the subject, grew more relaxed around me and showed interest in Alice more openly. I like to think this was because in no way did I judge an infatuation as a threat. We would have had to part ways anyway and yet, as true as this was to my eyes, Uncas kept contact with Alice to a minimum especially when his father and brother were in close proximity. This did confuse me a little because at this stage I truly believed the pair to simply be intrigued by each other. There was nothing wrong with finding a like minded spirit and latching onto it no matter how brief the encounter. But Uncas acted as if he were treading on egg shells and Alice altogether ignore it.

I had brushed aside some of what I had seen because it was innocent. I, however, saw how quickly Uncas made headway and distanced himself from Alice, swapping sides with me even so that I'd be between them. Alice would look briefly distraught but recover within a blink.

I had heard them talk some nights but I dismissed it quickly until one day when I sat down to adjust a moccasin.

Uncas had time and again, reached for Alice and she for him when she stumbled and that was gentlemanly of him. What I had failed to realise was that sometimes they didn't let go. Their smallest fingers remained intertwined and they walked beside me, subtly, hand in hand or rather, finger in finger, as it were.

We were at the back of the group and I barely knew I'd seen it because as soon as I sat down, they parted. The gesture gave me pause and I looked at them curiously.

"Are you alright? You look confused…" Uncas said with a frown, shouldering his musket.

When I didn't respond, he quickly urged me on, "Hurry or they'll leave us."

"They wouldn't dare!" Alice exclaimed, "My sister would know instantly."

She finished proudly, her over-bearing albeit heroic sister was still held in high esteem.

"Yeah but my father and brother won't stop. Next thing you know, I'll be navigating us all to Albany on my own. Nightmare."

"Not entirely on your own, I'm getting better." I defended myself without any real need, my pride still wounded from Chingachgook's constant tests that I was constantly failing. Uncas did not take the bait but he took Alice's,

"Whatever do you mean by nightmare?" she looked genuinely offended and even I was worried.

"If you think so." He said to me before turning to Alice calmly, "It wouldn't be a nightmare."

"No. Just a very bad dream."

"Not even, I didn't mean it."

"I'm not that bad." I cut in.

"You're relatively bad."

By this time Uncas found himself up to his nose in female rapid fire. He was turning from one to the other of us with answers to two different subjects. Alice and I were thriving. I'll give him his dues, though, he did not fluster nor panic.

"Yeah but I'm not that bad."

He just looked at me.

"Nightmare. Honestly."

Uncas turned back to Alice who looked thoroughly displeased and said again, only this time more sternly.

"I didn't mean it."

It amazed me how long it took for him to catch on and by this stage I had finished with my moccasins.

"Surely not." Alice replied.

Uncas looked at me, then back at Alice three times before he saw us cracking and letting loose our grins. He lifted his gaze to the sky and cursed it in Mohican, he had been well duped and Alice and I were the proud instigators of his being so.

"Hurry up." He said to me but did not leave.

It was this way that Alice and I learned of Uncas' first flaw. He didn't take well to being made fun _of_ though fun itself was not nearly out of the equation.

He walked in silence while Alice and I continued to build our friendship. Alice is smart and she has the know-how. She's a sheep by nature but I've gotten the sense that should the need arise, she could fall into the role of Shepherd without a second thought.

Of course I did most of the speaking but in this way I also came to find that Alice learnt about people in a far more rounded fashion and with a deeper empathy. She never forgot the importance of something I had told her a week before in one word. She never missed the tone of my voice nor the waver of my expressions and through this she drew out some stories I thought I'd forgotten.

Alice, as some believe, is reserved and quite close minded when it comes to the ways of the world outside of her English background. I think this is a Vox Populi largely influenced by the opinions of her family. I bare no ill will towards them but it does seem that they hadn't allowed her time grow up on her own with people forming unadulterated opinions.

So, naturally, I found quite the contrary. Alice is cautious and world weary but she walks through life with open palms.

Uncas was very different. He was enigmatic and his thoughts were never on his face. I believe he and Alice had managed to find a mutual understanding. Their little friendship was proving to be quite remarkable.

"I wonder what Papa is doing..." Alice mused aloud. I gave her glance but she was further away than Illinois.

Uncas strode past calling out to Nathaniel in Mohican. Nathaniel dropped back and Uncas took up the path by his father's side.

"You two are just about inseparable these days." He joked, feigning exasperation, "And what have you done to Uncas?"

I glanced back at the white Indian but caught Alice blushing deeply. I ignored it.

"Why, whatever –"

I stopped. Some strange sound had made it to my ears. I glanced forward and hoped that my fear was in my head but ahead of me, Uncas and Chingachgook looked unsettled.

The women seemed unfazed but looking back at Nathaniel, I saw him too, hesitate with sound. Alice turned to say something to me but I hushed her and she obeyed all wide eyed and fearful. Alas, it was not her we had to worry about.

Cora turned abruptly,

"Why have we stopped?"

I've never seen Chingachgook look so dismayed.

Uncas started an all ahead full sprint towards us – at the time I wasn't sure why – but his sudden decision had a price and no sooner had he started than did gunfire go off and a stray Huron ploughed through the undergrowth and straight into the young warrior Chief. Uncas and the Huron tumbled down the hill and out of site with grunts of pain.

Alice let out a shrill cry as Nathaniel shoved her to the ground,

"Stay down!" He called and Cora dropped. Duncan Hayward drew his cutlass again and I my little pistol. Chingachgook bounded down the hill after his son and suddenly we were all in the thick of it.

A war party dashed from out the trees and we were descended upon by hoards of tomahawks. We fired aimlessly because it seemed impossible to miss. I found myself being driven away from the problem at hand which blessed me with opportunity.

A clearing had appeared and it was free of obstacles. We could do it. Everybody runs faster when they're scared.

I looked down for Uncas and Chingachgook, found them to be alright albeit slightly damaged around the head. Cora was staring intently at me, as if having read my thoughts, she waited for instruction. I threw a tomahawk at a Huron who was coming up behind Nathaniel and hit straight on. And low and behold, the opportunity was briefly free of Huron interaction and I called it,

"Courir!"

I had meant to say 'run' but my brain turns to French vichyssoise in moments of fright but everyone seemed to get the idea. I turned on my heel and lead us on. We had broken apart slightly, our little band racing through the trees at different levels of undergrowth but not far enough to lose each other.

I could hear the pants of those around me, the women's rustling petty coats and much to my horror, the shrill cry of Huron in pursuit.

Nathaniel cried out something in Mohican and suddenly Chingachgook was gone. Uncas grabbed Cora's wrist and yanked her away, Hayward and Nathaniel stuck close and by this stage, I understood what was happening.

"Make for the river! Split up!"

Madness but I kept on heading straight, following the sounds of the river.

"Alice, keep up!" I cried, reaching back for her but no sooner had I said that than did she actually overtake me.

We came to an abrupt halt at the river bank, the beauty of the day contrasting the rather hot pursuit of death.

"What do we do now?" Alice asked fearfully.

There was a cave in front of us, I could see and all that needed doing was to swim to it. Fast and with the intention of feigning death and tricking the Huron.

"The cave, Alice, go!"

"I can't swim!"

"There's no time like the present!" and much to her frantic horror and my own surprise, I pushed her in and followed suit. She screamed when she shot up for air, her hair array and plastered to her face.

I tugged her a long with me, the water was actually fairly shallow and the footing easy but if one were to lose it, we were gonners. I was horribly aware of that as Alice tripped and bobbed and almost got swept away herself. Close calls came and went in quick succession. But we made it, by sheer grace or dumb luck – not sure which and I don't care.

We clambered into its depths and pressed ourselves against the wall, soaking wet. The cave was cold and damp as was to be expected but no less pleasant as we shivered in its depths.

"What do we do _now_?" she asked and I hushed her again, creeping forward to peer through the falls at the tiny hoard of confused Huron now accumulating on the banks.

A couple of them split up and down the banks but a fair few remained where they were. Waiting for us to make a bold move.

I grimaced and glanced back at Alice, unsure of what to do. I had to keep up appearances. I had to maintain the belief that I knew what we were doing but I had no idea.

I remembered Chingachgook telling me I was resourceful and I tried use that as inspiration. But I concluded that we were stuck.

I plopped down next to Alice who sat shaking with cold and no small amount of fear.

"I don't really know." I said finally but she looked less perturbed than I would have expected. I think she probably figured that out prior to my saying so,

"I'm sorry I pushed you in. I wasn't sure you would have done what I asked if I didn't..."

"No need," she answered quietly, "I'm not sure either."

My eyes scanned the interior looking for away out until at last Alice said,

"There's a hole behind me..."

She looked surprised. She shimmied over to allow me to have a look. It wasn't large but it was size enough to squeeze two small women through.

"That's handy." I commented thoughtfully, "I wonder if it has opening."

"Can you not light a fire and follow the smoke to find out?"

I gave her a small smile; ya see? She's smart.

"I don't have dry gun powder. And they might see."

"Through the falls? Surely daylight would hinder fire light."

"Not if you're in the dark. Not taking any chances neither."

She nodded, looking slightly disappointed. I tried to cheer up our situation,

"Can't get any worse. They can't stay there forever."

"Unless they decide to check –"

I jerked my head around towards the falls. The sound of multiple splashes making our hearts beat faster.

"You don't think-"

"Shshshsh!"

I did think, and peering through the falls again, I thought right. Panic very nearly raised its warped head but then I remembered the hole in the wall.

It was dangerous but it was that or take them on with one tomahawk. I'm not that brave...

With regards to the cave, however, I just could have been that stupid.

"Up you go." I said flatly, almost aghast at myself. She certainly was,

"You're joking."

"That or them. Hurry up and make a decision."

It didn't take her long. She positioned herself just so and took a deep, rattling breath and began to climb. I followed not too long after. Obviously we wouldn't get far before they stuck their own means of a fire up the hole to find us. They must have seen the bottom of my foot.

But i had to admit, I was briefly relieved to see the smoke wafting gracefully past us to some unseen freedom. I managed a small smile then Alice coughed. Loud and clear and fitfully,

"Dust in my throat!" she wheezed in between fits.

The Huron were yelling at each other manically below me and I heard what sounded like two warriors making their way after us.

"Alice, keep moving!"

She heaved herself forward,

"Where do I go?"

"Anywhere you can fit!"

I took note of a leaking crack as I crawled past hoping it would mean nothing but you always hope against hope. The Indians knew the Frontiers better than any 2 legged soul. It would be miraculous if they didn't decide to do anything with the opportunity of a leak.

The crack rolled up and up and I was beginning to think they'd missed and then the shuffling behind me went silent. Soft, assertive voices rose instead and Alice stalled.

"I'm-" I heard the sound of effort, "I'm stuck!"

She whispered frantically. It took every fibre in my being not to lose my head.

"Alright..." I tried and failed to think of something, "Alright."

The Hurons below had begun banging the wall experimentally. I had one eye on Alice and one eye on the crack and very steadily growing fear of the worst.

"Marie!"

"OK...deep breaths. What can you move?"

"Nothing!"

"There must be something, an arm? A leg? What's stuck?"

The crack hissed and water started seeping through. We must have been working our way through underneath river. My breath hitched and I heard frantic Huron words being exchanged and a descending scuffle.

"My left arm! I can't move! It's getting wetter! Help!"

Alice's voice was laced with hysteria, wavering and sniffing as I believe tears began to mix with water now running down my front.

"Stop panicking." I said sternly, taking a deep breath of my own, "Can you roll, can you move your body in any other way other than up?"

"I can't-"

"Yes or no."

"No!"

I was stumped.

It was getting deeper, we were lying in the equivalent of an estuary. They must have sealed up the entrance below us. Ah, well, I figured this to be out end and I took breath and my heart instantly slowed and my head was clear.

"What do you think can be done?" I asked calmly. It's amazing what happens to you when you accept your fate. There were worse ways to die. I stifled a groan, I really didn't want to, though. That was the problem.

Miraculously, Alice seemed to have calmed herself too. Her breathing evened out,

"I can feel myself floating."

I was worried she was going to start a death talk but,

"I think if you can push me a little, I might be able to free my arm now."

If she thought that the way then so be it. I was worrying, however, that if it didn't work, she'd get more stuck.

But I did as was suggested and hoisted myself up. Sloshing through the river water to get to her. Funny how laying your hand upon the backside of someone during danger completely obliterates the social intolerance of the deed should it have been done under different circumstances.

"Ready?"

"Yes!"

I pushed and we both strained ourselves under the effort. It failed.

"It will work!" Alice encouraged, the tables turned, "Try again."

I sighed and heaved. This time for longer. Something came loose and Alice shot forward.

I was surprised and face planted the dirty, rock water but I was far too elated. I was mildly aware of a ripping sound and Alice stalled again,

"Was that my dress?"

I couldn't believe how very disbelieving she sounded, in a manner which suggested that tearing her dress was a whole other kettle of fish in comparison to drowning in a cave.

"I don't know," I answered a little flustered, the water creeping higher up my chest, "Alice, Move!"

Thankfully she did and despite the fact that we had no idea where we were going – it felt like freedom was waiting.

It paid off alright, we strangely came out in a stream, probably much further down than we anticipated. We crawled out gasping for air, shivering relentlessly and alive. We collapsed on the river bank and took note of the red sky above. Dusk was settling in beautifully and a red sky at night is a shepherd's delight but we were in for a chilly night.

No Chingachgook, Hawkeye, Cora, Hayward or Uncas.

I sat up and sighed heavily, the problem dawning.

"Where are they?" Alice asked as if having read my thoughts. I glanced at her,

"I don't know," I sniffed and shrugged, "Escaping up a hole in the wall was an unseen part of the plan."

"There was a plan?"

"There's always a plan."

She continued to look at me, waiting for me to explain but I was tired, wet and worried and all I could think of to say was,

"But obviously it didn't take varying escape tactics into account."

"We're lost." She summarised curtly.

"Yup."


	5. Chapter 5

**Sup team. There aren't a lot of you but I would like to say Thanks anyway Thanks for getting in on this with me, thanks for the support, thanks for accepting the observer point of view. Times are tough right now, one of those 'not sure why' times though…so this is my happy place. This the first 'first person' piece of writing I've ever done too so…wahey!**  
 **And lastly, I've re-read the previous chapter and HAHA how implausible an idea that waterfall/cave scene was but hey, if it works, it works. Viva la** **drama.**

We traipsed wordlessly through the woods in the dying light for about an hour before I found a suitable place to sit and rest.

I flung down my sling bag and set about gathering bits of crackling and wood.

"You don't intend to start a fire, do you?" she said wearily as I went about it, "Chingachgook said not too whenever we're on the run. It makes us easy to find."

I looked up at her, pausing my work. Again, Chingachgook had never said this to her directly, it was merely said in passing but Alice picked it up and retained the information. Still, different circumstances called for different plans of action.

"That or pneumonia."

"Or a tomahawk." She answered dryly.

"I would choose a tomahawk. Quicker. Trust me." I said, rubbing two sticks together furiously. I hid my amazement when I saw it worked, "I know."

Alice plonked herself down, still shivering,

"How do you know?" she drew her legs up to her chest and inched closer and closer to the small but steady fire.

"I caught it as a child. It felt like my lungs were done in. We had a good doctor who managed to appease my illness. But, I tell you, I thought death was on its way. Still burns every now then. Scar tissue on my lungs, you see. But," I inhaled as I watched the fire grow, "a friend did not survive the ordeal. His was a long, painful end."

"How awful. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Not to worry, though, that was a long time ago."

We sat in silence for a moment before I too felt the biting cold of the evening air pairing up with the cold of damp clothing.

I reached for my sling bag and pulled out my soldiers clothing and threw it to Alice. Miraculously, the uniform was only wet in small patches. It could easily dry whilst being worn.

"What are these for?" she paused looking baffled, "And why French? I thought your father was English…"

Discomfort rose but I shook it off,

"Long story. Put those on and dry your dress."

She looked unwilling,

"Just until they dry and then you can put your magnanimous amount of dress back on."

She still looked displeased.

"You or me, Alice. Either way, one of us will have to sit naked for a while, while the clothes dry."

Alice took the clothes uncertainly and disappeared behind a tree while I got a small branch ready upon which to hang our clothes, stripped and then sat feeling grim by the fire.

Alice reappeared from behind the tree a few minutes later. She sat not far from me after having hung up her dress.

"If ever there were a time that I were more thankful to be without too much company," I said grudgingly, "This is it."

"Yes." The young woman replied thoughtfully, "What will we do if we are found?"

"I'm going to hope to high heaven that we aren't."

"But what if –"

"Run like deer from the hunters and remember to take the clothes and the bag. Speaking of which," I felt a glimmer of hope, "Rummage through it, will you? I may have a few bits to eat."

Alice grabbed the bag instantaneously, all to eager to do as was bid. She pulled out two long strips of dried meat and held it up before her eyes curiously.

"What is it?"

"Don't know. Chingachgook gave it to me, said it was for emergencies."

"Alright..."

She handed me one and together we chomped, relieving our stomachs of hunger.

Not too much longer after we'd finished, Alice focused on me with no small amount of concern.

"What?" I asked abruptly.

"What if we don't find them?"

"They're heading to Albany. I know the general direction." I gestured, "We've been walking straight for 3 days. I can't imagine the path varying too much. I can get us there."

"Uncas, Chingachgook and Nathaniel, all say you're terrible with directions!"

"I like to think I have a small amount of common sense, thank you."

I was a little offended at Alice's lack of faith but I couldn't blame her if all three trackers were calling me out for it. Alice went quiet a moment. I tried to read her expression but she, like Uncas, didn't display much on her face. It was all said in small actions and with what little words she wished to say.

As it was, that was all she said for a long while until she threw me completely with a most uncharacteristic question,

"Have you made love before?"

I looked at her in surprise, my mouth falling open,

"I…what?"

She then flew into a frenzied, soup of words, trying to explain, trying to rephrase, trying to brush it off as if it were nothing. All the while, I sat stunned.

"I mean…" she cleared her throat, thought properly about what she was about to say then said it calmly, "I've been thinking about it, wondering what it must be like. I daren't ask Cora."

"Why?"

"It's not ladylike to talk of such things," She answered quietly, "My sister would never allow it."

I was naked in the forest, cold and finished with life meanwhile this young woman wanted to talk about sex. But I considered this surprising topic carefully.

"What on earth made you ask that?"

"I've been thinking on it a while. It's just you and I for now so I thought I might…well…ask. Considering our circumstances," she gestured to MY circumstance, "It might be good to take our minds off the problem for a moment."

I nodded vaguely, accepting her curiosity. It wouldn't hurt. Not that It didn't surprise me to know that Alice had no experience in the art of sex. I wondered if Uncas was a factor in her thoughts on the matter but I wouldn't go there. Not yet. As for reservations regarding Uncas' virginity, a man as beautiful and as graceful as he, not to mention, young…surely. Women had undoubtedly been throwing themselves at his feet. I don't believe Uncas to be careless. I have no doubt that if there had been any dire consequences, he would have suffered through and dealt with them. But as true as that may be, that boy was in no way innocent. I was sure. I guessed she knew that.

"So…" she tried again, more carefully, "Have you?"

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself,

"Yup."

Her mouth fell open. I was puzzled by this. Why would she ask the question if she suspected me to be a virgin? This girl.

"Outside of marriage?"

"Yup."

"Well…" she leant forward, suddenly hugely interested in whatever story she believed I had, "What was it like?"

Alice was suddenly the child her family kept seeing, all doe eyed curiosity with youthful intrigue.

"Uhm.." I searched for the right words – refraining from asking her 'which time?' She was already mortified by my response to the first question so I thought I'd stick to the first time encounter. The story of the French uniform, "My first time wasn't entirely pleasant."

Her interest, though still intense, seemed to wilt. She looked grave,

"What happened? Did he force himself upon you?"

"No." I answered assuredly, I had thought it over in my head countless times, "No. I was ready but it was sore. He was inconsiderate and disrespectful of my person and I didn't enjoy it. He was a French naval officer. A friend of a friend. I trusted him on those grounds alone. Which was a very naïve thing to do."

She continued to look at me, waiting for me to continue. A chilly breeze blew rather suddenly, causing me to shiver violently on cue with the memory.

"It was in a barn." I grumbled.

"A barn?!" she looked horrified, "What, with all the farmyard animals?"

"No. No animals. A lot of hay, though."

She made a face. I reached out to see whether the clothes were dry but no such luck. I huffed.

"What happened?"

"Well, I lost a part of my youth to an arrogant bastard, I suppose. He's the story behind that uniform you're wearing." Alice glanced down at herself upon my gesture, "The morning after, I woke before him, took his clothes and ran away. It was fantastic revenge until the theory of 'my word against his' failed. They never found his clothes, he was chastised by the navy and…so was I. Scorn of the town for weeks after, I was."

Alice was staring at me with her mouth hanging open, eyes as round as saucers. Shocked,

"That is most uncouth of you."

"Yes, well, he never got them back…obviously." I shrugged, "Revenge was justified. I did it to a friend of mine too, once. She went off gallivanting with the farm boy. I thought it would be a brilliant practical joke but she hated me for 3 weeks after that."

Alice spat violently, that sound you make when you don't mean to laugh but do so anyway. I swear she almost keeled over.

"I'm so glad I'm a good source of entertainment, Madam." I offered sarcastically.

Once she recovered and had composed herself accordingly, she continued her enquiry,

"Do all first times hurt?"

"You can only have one first time, Alice." I managed a smile, "No, I don't think they do. Just…be sure of what you want." I was then swept up in and somewhat saddened by cynicism, "We live in an unforgiving world, Alice. The women pay for the mistakes and bear the evidence."

She went silent, mulling this piece of information over in her mind,

"Yes, I…I suppose we do." She took a sharp breath, changing the subject, "Are your friends still back home?"

"I assume so. We all spoke of big adventures but who knows, maybe they found a reason to stay."

"Did you and your friend reconcile after having taken her clothes?"

"Yes." I smiled at the thought, "Yes…she exacted her own revenge."

"Which was?"

"Oh no. You've already asked me about consummation, I will only tell you so much."

"Oh, go on. Do you ever want to go back?"

"No." it was an easier answer to give than I anticipated. No. Life would have moved on without me by the time it would be safe to go back. There'd be nothing there so why ponder.

Alice let me have that as the final word. We fell into a companionable silence, staring at the fire. I even forgot, albeit briefly, that I was in the unfortunately nude throughout.

I was alert to every sound in the forest. Even as Alice fell asleep, slowly but surely, I sat. As grumpy and cold as could be, feeling my Delaware clothes every so often until they were dry enough. I threw them on and waited for dawn, wondering about where the others might be.

It was a long night and I don't remember being more tired but I was done with sitting around. I woke Alice up and gestured sharply,

"Let's go."

She nodded sleepily but was set to go quite quickly. She kept my clothes on, ironically, so I stuffed her dress in my bag. Off we trudged in the direction I thought best. I hoped was best.

We picked berries as we went and we took but one break. I could see Alice was beginning to struggle but she kept on so I'll give her, her dues. Especially because I was in a foul mood so we didn't talk much.

Alas, much to my despair and no doubt Alice's, the day was giving up on us despite how far it felt like we had walked. I sat down on a log and looked at her with disappointed guilt.

She sat down beside me, relieved, her cheeks pink with effort.

"I'd be far worse off without you." She assured me.

"You're too kind. I had hoped to get somewhere near Albany today but...never mind."

She shrugged. She then appeared to drift away into dusk. Her hands went to her hair without thought and she undid it, then began to braid it. She repeated the process a few times before she let her hands drop into her lap. She turned to me.

"Where'd you go?" I asked, amused. She lived in her own world. It was always of great interest to find out where she went.

She blushed, rubbing her cheeks to hide it.

"May I have my dress? I'd like to put it back on."

I passed her my bag for her to do as she pleased while I sat staring out into the dark that had settled about us. It didn't take long to see a faint glow emanating from just beyond the canopy down a slight incline. I frowned and glanced back at Alice who had just come back, her blond hair back up.

"What's that?" she said abruptly, stalling. I got my tomahawk and little hand gun ready,

"Fire, seems like." I frowned, "Let's go take a look."

"Is that wise?" she looked frightened. To be honest, no it wasn't, but I had a small hope and was probably irrational.

I ignored her and started down as quietly as I could. Alice's dress caught on something and it tore loudly. We froze. A shadow passed over the fire and I knew we'd been heard. I glanced up at Alice, throwing her dress a dirty look.

I waited but nothing else happened. So I whispered to Alice to just stay where she was while I treaded down quietly. I stopped just short of a tree and peered through the darkness into the clearing. Muskets were out, tomahawks were ready, guns were blazing and the soldier's cutlass was glinting in the light. Cora stood motionless while clutching her own weapon with whitened knuckles. She looked tired, riddled with worry.

My heart was soaring though, relief tearing through my blood like a ship in high winds.

I started forward, my hands up in surrender,

"Thought I'd never find you."

All weapons instantly dropped. Chingachgook's lips quirked up at the corners in a fatherly fashion, his eyes bright.

Nathaniel settled his musket in the dirt and leant back with a wry smile,

"Took you long enough."

I was about to respond but Cora rushed at and grabbed me forcefully, so much so that I momentarily lost footing and stumbled. She didn't let go as I stared wide-eyed at her.

"Where's Alice? Where's my sister?"

"Waiting just up there." I said, still shocked, "She's fine..."

Cora moved past me but not fast enough.

Uncas marched by without a sound, leaving his musket with his father as he made his ascent to retrieve the young woman. I slipped out of Cora's firm grasp and made for the fire. Before I could sit down, however, Chingachgook embraced me, much to my bewilderment. A first time for everything indeed.

"Good job." I felt the swell of pride begin to grow but it was short lived as Uncas hurried down empty handed. His eyes were focused, his body rigid.

"She's not up there."

My breath caught in my lungs. The fingers of fear began to claw up my spine.

"Where did you tell her to go?" he demanded of me.

"Nowhere. I told her to stay where she was."

"You lost my sister?!" Cora yelled at me but I didn't respond. It was impossible. I'd been checking the whole way. We definitely were not being followed. I didn't understand.

"Be still." Chingachgook said sternly, calm in the face of frenzy, "We put out the fire then we go."

"How will we find her in the dark?!" Duncan retorted,

"If we leave the fire going, they'll find us sooner than we'll find them." Nathanial responded. 'They'. The Huron war party we'd been constantly trying to evade.

"There's no reason for them to wait, though," I added, "They would have taken her and gone."

"The dark haired one." Chingachgook pointed at Cora.

I was about to collapse and die when a small squeal came from our right.

Everybody spun on their heels. Uncas burst forward and from the undergrowth hauled a perturbed Alice.

"Alice!" Cora exclaimed, pushing Uncas out of the way as she embraced her sister, tears of relief streaming down her face, "What happened?"

Alice let go of her sister, answering in a small, embarrised voice,

"You never came back to get me, Marie. I heard you speaking to them but I couldn't get down without tripping over my skirts. So I looked for another way around. Needless to say, I tripped over my skirts anyway."

I was too relieved to apologise.

"The fire goes out now, anyway." CHingachgook stated calmly after which life seemed to go on.

Nathaniel went about chucking dirt on the embers while Cora hugged her sister again fiercely while Duncan crept up to embrace young Alice too, muttering something like,

"Thank God you're safe."

Uncas stood by idly but briefly before moving away to gather his things.

"We're glad you're alright, Miss." Chingachgook said assuredly. Nathaniel smiled his agreement. Uncas said nothing.

"Thanks for caring." I snapped. Yeah, alright, I was the tracker in the situation but what about me, you know?

Chingachgook chuckled,

"Let us go from here."

Then he left me, the men casting me amused smiles, Cora gave my arm a squeeze and Alice smiled warmly,

"Thank you."

As we walked away from the original place to settle in another, Uncas fell back to me,

"My father never let us put the fire out until tonight." He looked at me evenly, "Despite what Hawkeye and I thought best."

Then he moved off pacing himself behind the two women.

The thought still makes me smile. Chingachgook, with his wry sense of humour – a pretty big heart lay beneath the tethered skin.

Anyway, we settled down for the night once more, again, not far from the river. Never far from the river.

The fire was not even considered. I was out for the count within minutes but I woke up starving. I got up to rummaged through all sorts of packs but found nothing. I tried to settle back down again instead but that failed too until at last, a little grumpy and a little unsettled, I wondered down towards the river.

I stopped short when I saw Uncas and Alice sitting together again. Uncas was braiding Alice's hair while she sat fiddling with something that shone in the moonlight. She was leaning back on his knees languorously while she did so. Uncas got to the end of the braid, examined it, took it out and started again.

I cocked my head. I felt the light of friendship had surpassed them and that I was looking at the moments following it. No matter how hard you look, if something doesn't want to be seen, chances are you won't see it.

But I wanted to be by the river in the moonlight. My bones were weak, my skin was bruised and my muscles stiff, all from trying to keep myself warm the night before. So I threw caution to the wind and I walked out of the darkness. I'd barely made it out of the canopy border before Uncas had leapt up, musket in hand, ready to blow my head off yet again.

"Calm...right down." I said briskly without stopping.

He dropped his aim almost instantly. He looked as surprised as his face would allow him. Alice on the other hand was so startled that her mouth had yet to close and her eyes had yet to recognise me.

I grinned at her, taking a seat not too far from them with my back up against a rock. I must admit, that little nicé was the most comfortable I'd been in a while. I settled down easily enough and held my grumbling stomach. Uncas stared at me cautiously, weighing the situation with good over bad. He went to his bag near Alice, who still looked rather dismayed. He fished out a secret piece of dried meat and threw it my way.

I jumped when it landed heavily in my lap. The smell of salt and spices rose beautifully amidst the smell of nature. I was chomping on it soon after without a second thought.

I thanked him profusely and watched him think. He glanced at Alice, then at me. He concluded his thoughts, slowly bending to the young woman to gently nudged her upright so that he could replace himself behind her.

Alice, all the while, was as stiff as a board. She daren't move it seemed. Uncas had to all but pull her back down between his legs where she sat uncomfortably. She played self-consciously with whatever it was that glinted. Until she dropped it. It rolled rigorously towards the rolling river. I issued a half attempt at a rescue, sticking my foot out to stop it but gave up.

Uncas and Alice both lunged forward in frantic silence. Alice just managed to get it and Uncas lay in a heap, half sprawled atop her, relieved.

It was most comical. I had to stifle laughter but my shoulders shook.

They readjusted themselves to try again. Alice tried to give back the thing which I realised was Uncas' bracelet, but he didn't take it. He waved it off,

"Don't worry."

Silence resumed. My amusement faded and fascination came in small waves. Uncas braided and un-braided Alice's hair countless times. I concluded that this was not new.

They must have had many a quiet night where they'd sit and do...whatever these two did. By morning the braids would be gone and all evidence of the interaction would go with them.

Alice seemed to relax more as the moments went on. The three of us began talking about mundane things that came and went. Small jests were made on occasion but not just from me. From Uncas. From Alice!

Alice was witty. Wittier than Uncas and would even give Nathaniel a run for his money. So witty was she that sometimes our giggles would take time before we were able to talk normally again.

Uncas listened attentively and stilled when Alice said something mildly stirring that was implied to have upset her. He watched the back of her head as she spoke and watched the movement of her hands when she gestured.

It would not do to say that I was surprised.

In a rare moment that I think was purely instinctive, Uncas leant forward and placed a small kiss on the crown of Alice's head then stopped. He was shocked by himself. Alice had not appeared to have noticed, wrapped up in a story she was telling more to herself than to us. Releasing energy. It would hardly have mattered whether or not either of us was actually there. But to Uncas, it seemed, that listening to Alice talk was precious. I suppose it was, she spoke more than the man behind her but it was not a huge amount. In fact, this was the most I'd heard her speak all the while.

She had a small voice. The opposite of Uncas'. Smoother, silkier. Almost wistful.

Uncas was still rigid from surprise at his actions but upon realising that Alice either didn't mind or didn't notice and that I either didn't see or didn't care, he relaxed and went back to braiding her hair.

Something pricked her though and she lurched forward with a yelp of pain, Uncas' bracelet from his other arm having gotten tangled in her hair.

"You moved too fast!" He said, flustered – yes, flustered, trying to untangle Alice's hair as fast as he could with one hand.

"I'm sorr- ow! Uncas, stop, you're going to pull all my hair out."

"I won't. Why did you move?"

"Why are you wearing a bracelet? Just stop. I'll do it."

Uncas did stop.

I was awed. Uncas and Alice were actually bickering. When and how their relationship grew in silence up to a point where they were comfortable enough to snap at each other, I did not know.

Over such a dull thing!

I began to laugh, properly laugh, a belly laugh.

"What on earth are you laughing at?" Alice scowled,

They both looked at me expectantly.

"You two! Ridiculous."

They looked confused then went back to trying to disentangle the bracelet from the hair.

I stand by that statement to this day. They were immaculate in daylight, despite their stumbles and obvious mishaps. Uncas was the epitome of what history will always call the noble 'Red Man'. Strong, lean, beautiful.

Alice oozed feminine beauty. Her wistful take on life and her girlish belief in princely romance would enthral any man or woman with the charm. She was, outwardly, the perfect woman – a perfection Cora and myself lacked.

Yet, here they sat. Uncas looking on in boyish fascination with his arm held awkwardly aloft while Alice sat cross legged and annoyed, pulling on her own hair enough to wince on occasion.

All in all, it was an incredibly personal moment and humbling to be able to gaze upon the flaws of the two most pristine people I have ever known.

"I've almost..." she pulled a little too hard, "Ow!"

But Uncas' bracelet came free and his arm was his to claim again but instead he layed the same hand atop Alice's as she held her head.

"Silly woman." He said softly and she let a giggle escape into the night.

And there, before me, was the last of the Mohicans. I felt a small pang of melancholia on Chingachgook's behalf.

The race was to end regardless of what happened to Uncas. Uncas appeared to have had accepted that and Alice... I don't know. Perhaps she was contented with the simplicity of being with Uncas as a man. Ignoring the complications of his being the last hope for the continuation of an entire bloodline. Ignoring the fact that the entirety of our little group would not approve, least of all Chingachgook. Ignoring the fact that the entire world would reject them one way or another.

Never mind how well I was treated at the little Indian camp, I was never considered one of them.

The only thing they would have going for them was that some folks would be more lenient. So I made my decision, if they were going to breach the distance over the nettles and the thorns and if I were to call myself a friend, then so be it. I supported this. Everything else including the Mohican bloodline, be damned.

"You know they won't approve." I said quietly, addressing the situation directly, after all, it would have to be done eventually. I don't even know if they had thought about their current predicament in full.

The ambiguous 'they' was a darkness that would come for them in time. Sooner rather than later.

"Do you?" Uncas looked at me steadily while Alice went quiet and stilled.

I gazed at him thoughtfully, wondering for the first time, what exactly it was that he thought of me. It was never a question of whether I approved or not. It was more that I respected it as a very brave decision. It gave me hope for some light in a country that fought in darkness.

It deserved and needed all the support it could get but it needed to be substantiated. Proof of their decision was required if we were to plunge into the unknown together. (I say 'together' loosely, mind you. They were all but alone on this one.) But I supposed that would come in time. What could I do?

I nodded.

"Good." He said with a steadfast firmness and a determination that went against the grain, "Because after the Fort in Albany...I'm not going to Ken-tukee. I don't need to find a woman anymore."

 _Well shit._

Alice shut her eyes.

As we looked out over the path to Albany; the romance died, the shadows grew as threats and the path itself looked uncertain.

He put his arms around his woman and from there a new journey began.

 **A/N I had a lot of fun with this chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I couldn't remember where Webb was supposed to be and, to my shame, I couldn't be bothered to go and find out. So if it well and truly bothers anyone, please let me know and I'll correct it. Other than that, off we go.**

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The next night, moments after dusk, we made it to the Fort. It looked like a Fort should have, apart from the fact that it was under siege.

The Canons rang out loudly in the still night air,The sound of injured and agonised soldiers were louder still. I went to Chingachgook's side, sticking close.

"Not good." He said grimly, I was inclined to agree. The feelings that I had repressed about going to Illinois came back in an instant. This was not the plan. This was not good. The horizon was ablaze with light. The only way across was the lake which, in the dark, looked like an enormous hole in the ground. The only recognisable thing about it was the reflections of the fire. As a blast went off above, the light was mirrored in the blackened depths. As above, so below.

The entire situation turned rather desperate.

"We should go back," Nathaniel said decisively, "Go around from the back, if we can."

"We can't," Uncas interjected, hurrying down to us, ushering Alice closer as he came, "Huron are on the hill. We're lucky they haven't seen us yet."

Everyone looked up. He was right, more than a few Huron warriors were creeping down into the valley. We were trapped.

"Now what?" Hayward asked breathless, resorting to a whisper.

Chingachgook pointed,

"Canoes. We put the women in one and we swim across."

Nathaniel shrugged,

"Alright, let's go."

Everyone shuffled past me but Chingachgook spared me a glance,

"Coming or finding your own way?"

Quite frankly I was amazed that he was still aware of my ulterior motive, more amazed that he was prepared to have me simply abandon ship when the worst was upon us. I stared incredulously at him,

"I'm coming with you."

He smiled, obvious relief on his old face. He led us down to where the canoes floated loftily in the shallow water. I climbed in behind Cora,

"This is a first..." I muttered.

"You're telling me!" she whispered back on the border of hysteria. I managed to giggle but no one else said anything. I felt the boat drift soundlessly out into the darkness, the soft grunts of the men as they simultaneously propelled themselves forward and dragged us with them. I wondered how deep it was in there but that thought was quickly wiped from my mind when Cora stuck her head up to take a peak.

"Cora!" I whispered harshly, "Keep your head down!"

"It looks impossible..."

"I'm sure it does."

And she went quiet then until at last we hit dry land. We leapt out of the boat on cue and made a run for it, gaining ourselves a few cuts and bruises as we went. Canon fire blew out a nearby tree sending wood and splinters raining down upon us.

A stray soldier roared out of nowhere, the only one. Nobody saw him coming but he was about to charge into Alice.

I yelled, just to draw attention. Uncas, who was just a head of me and just behind Alice, surged forward. Alice jumped, falling back in a stunned stupor as Uncas took the impact. The problem was over before it began, really. Uncas got rid of the soldier easily but he didn't escape unscathed. He grunted and dropped to his knees. Alice, who I was subsequently dragging along, reached for him. He responded and took her hand, getting to his feet easily, continuing to run in the same movement.

We waved frantically at the gate keeper who allowed us in with a look of utter amazement at the sight of the bedraggled girls.

I took note of this being the first time Uncas openly displayed his need to protect Alice. Distance was between them but his arm was pretty firm about her shoulders. However, in light of the chaotic circumstances, it was easily written off.

I squeezed past the man at the gate for it was not opened wide. Soot was smeared across his face, his hair aloof and clothes covered in God knew what. I smiled gratefully as he nodded,

"We're amazed you made it! Saw you a mile off."

"Thank goodness for that, we could have been stuck out there for ages!"

He grinned at me as the gate was slowly hauled shut. But there came a particularly clear cannon fire and it made the Fort wall shake. Blazing fire light roared into the air and then stilled, the gate half open, the keeper lifeless on the ground.

Hoards of soldiers surged forward to close it, the body of the man I'd just shared a bit of humour with left where it lay.

I was stunned.

"Come on, Marie!" Nathaniel called, looking back expectantly but without stopping. But I couldn't move. I didn't know what to do or what to think.

Don't get me wrong, I know I've done things but there was self-defence. Then there was war. That man could have been my friend. He had grinned at me, perfectly alive only moments before. Do you understand?

I felt a firm but gentle grip enclose itself about my left arm. I turned and found myself looking at Chingachgook through blurry eyes,

"Come now," He said gently, ignoring the explosions and screaming that put his calmness out of place, "People are safest when they are dead."

It was an odd thing to say but in a way, strangely comforting. Strangely right. I followed numbly. I was guided into a dimly lit office where Alice, upon seeing an elderly yet very strong, stern and stout looking man, tore out of Uncas' grip and straight into his arms,

"Papa!" she bleated, encompassing herself further into her father's arms while Cora drifted over in a sort of waking dream. I don't think she could quite grasp the magnitude of the problem just yet.

"Why did you disobey me girls?" Colonel Munro said desperately, "Why are you here? I sent a letter telling you to stay away!"

"A letter...what? When?" Cora was breathing deeply, only just managing to keep her emotions at bay.

"I sent one with a Mohawk guide!"

"We received no such letter," Hayward replied evenly, "The only guide we had turned on us and we had to find our own way here."

"With the help of these men," Cora was quick to shift attention, "We would never have gotten here without them."

Munro looked surprised, turning back to Hayward for confirmation,

"Is this true, Major?"

Hayward nodded looking disgruntled. So it was, Munro turned to the three Frontiersmen with a sullen gaze and a voice thick with genuine appreciation,

"Thank you."

Nathaniel nodded in time with his father, old and wise. Uncas sniffed loudly, as if it wasn't a bother at all.

I realise now that that was a greater act of acknowledgement than to nod in acceptance. Undertaking the task of keeping the women, namely Alice, safe was no task at all. It really wasn't a bother for him. In fact I doubt he would have had it any other way.

"Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"If we could help ourselves to some supplies; that would be good..." Nathaniel responded, wiping dirt off of his forehead.

"And some food," Uncas added and I think we all simultaneously realised how hungry we were.

"I'm indebted to you." He paused, looking at his children thoughtfully, his hard eyes resting on young, timid Alice, "Off you go, girls. Go and get some rest. Let myself and Major Hayward talk alone."

Cora nodded obediently and glanced at Nathaniel before slipping from the confines of the room. Alice resisted a while longer, holding her father's gaze with concern,

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, my girl, just fine." He embraced Alice when she folded into his chest again. He acted as a father should, I thought, forgetting all military decorum, "It will be alright, girl," He said stroking her hair, "It will be alright."

Alice finally let go of him after many moments, curtsied her goodbyes and left.

The Colonel then turned to us, the fatherly tenderness gone,

"My troops are falling like flies, my walls are crumbling by the minute and I don't have the time to get reinforcements." He was frowning at Hayward in a manner that suggested that he was out of ideas.

"There'll be runners here who can get to them." Nathaniel suggested but was shut down abruptly.

"I doubt it, Sir. The harbour is too far and Colonel Webb is not known for his speed."

"Webb isn't at the Port." Hayward said suddenly, "He marched his troops to Fort Edward two days ago."

"I actually know where that is..." I mused under my breath. Surprised at myself. It was further away in the wrong direction for me however.

"That's news to me!" Munro exclaimed, eyes wide, hope giving his otherwise rigid form a new flare, "The general can have reinforcements here the morning after tomorrow. You, Sir," He turned to Nathaniel, "Find your best man. I want the letter out on the go in an hour."

"Yes, sir." The white Indian smiled sardonically. We filtered out of the room to find nourishment while Hayward stood quietly with hands clasped behind his back, staring fixedly after Nathaniel. I dared an ironic smile which was obviously not returned.

I don't really know what happened but I lost all of them. The two women left, obviously, then Chingachgook muttered something about rest, Nathaniel supplies and Uncas, his wounds. Then there was only me. I stood alone in an empty hall, with the dimmed firelight of the candles and the dull thud of war outside, wondering about the absurdity of this ordeal. I was supposed to be well on my way to Illinois by now.

Somewhere out there, music had begun to play. It was a merry tune played upon a fiddle, a dance I suspected. A waltz perhaps? 123, 123, 123…I counted.

Then again, somewhere inside was a lonely melody played on a piano and the two playing together, out of sink and of different origins, sounded like a dream. As if I were living in a memory. I peered out a window and looked around; in time with the music, a group of people were dancing away the terror. When I looked the other way, a lonely, legless soldier sat in tears in time to the melody played on the piano.

I had a moment of an acute emotional upset. I put my head in my hands and began to weep. I don't remember the last time I wept so heavily. I mourned my family, for the Mohicans, for the man with no legs, for the mixed up tunes, for fear, for the dying lands that were being fought over and for the beautiful ways of life that were caught up in it. War was an ugly thing. I wished then, with every fibre in my being, that something would drive this madness to an end so that the colonials would suddenly pack up and leave. And I with them.

But my tears passed, my frightful rage simmered and I reached a numb peace.

I was here by the force of my own hand and were I to have it any other way would leave me racked with guilt. Here I was and it would have to do.

I moved myself forward and landed up in what appeared to be a pantry. In it was an abundance of tea. Never had I been so pleased to see something so petty. Never again would I take for granted the value of tea.

With green tea in my hands and warmth seeping into my bones with every sip, I wondered down empty halls alone until I wondered straight into Uncas. He was kneading a newly sewn up wound, wincing with everything touch.

"Try and ignore it." I said, taking another sip. He looked up at me and ignored my suggestion instead.

"I could use some of that." He eyed my mug longingly.

"Pantry." I pointed back down the way I came. He nodded determinedly and made to move past me,

"Have you seen Alice?"

I followed him without paying too much attention.

"Nope. Why?"

He didn't respond so I took another sip. We made it to the Pantry and he rummaged through countless tea bags, taking liberties with the bread and fruit before making for what looked like a kitchen, just two doors down. We poked our heads around the door to confirm and we were right so Uncas and I huddled in the kitchen with tea and bread.

"How's the courier coming along?"

"Don't know. I'll just be a spotter when the time comes."

He said this through an enormous amount of bread in his mouth and I couldn't be bothered to ask him to repeat it so the above response was subject to interpretation.

"Hmm...well...I hope he finds one soon. I want to go."

"Hawkeye won't leave the dark haired sister." Uncas said casually, tearing another chunk of bread and offering it to me. I waved it away.

"Yeah… I had suspicions. And what of you?"

He stopped chewing momentarily and considered his answer carefully.

"I think I will go to Ken-tukee. I'll take Alice with me."

"Since when? Were you going to have this discussion with her now?"

I looked at him with wide eyed concern.

"It's a mess here. If not now, when?"

Speak of the devil, we did when Alice trundled in with her hair in knots, bags under eyes looking petite and fragile in a night gown. She took pause when she saw us, considering her garments before deciding she didn't care and continued into the room. She made straight for Uncas who rose to her lithe and easily but promptly had his bread taken from him and his tea sipped from. He stood still, perplexed by Alice's moves.

"I despise this." She snapped suddenly after swallowing her mouthful. Uncas considered the young woman for a moment before holding out a mugless hand.

"Could I have my tea back?"

Alice scowled at him. And there was Alice's flaw. Grumpy when tired – something we could all relate too. It was peculiar, it didn't suit her.

"Get your own." She said in a hushed fire.

Uncas gestured helplessly at his mug but promptly let his arms settle at his sides and he just looked at her curiously.

"Fine." She shoved it back into his hands and made to exit but he caught her wrist and she sort of whirled around to face him while I stood by idly, watching this bizarre turn of events,

"Have the tea." He whispered gently, "I don't really mind."

Alice immediately seemed to regain her senses and pushed the mug more firmly into his grasp and shook her head,

"No, I apologise. That was uncouth. I would prefer to make my own anyway."

By this stage, while Uncas watched her walk out again, soft of eye and heart, I was so confused, I didn't know what to do.

He glanced at me but remained steadfast as he waited for Alice's return.

"She's a strange thing." He muttered under his breath, sighing softly, amusement laced his voice like the vines through the undergrowth.

"You two are a bit beyond the realm of the living, I think." I confessed in awe.

"What do you mean?" He frowned.

"You don't say words of relevance to each other. You just speak. Maybe. And yet, by your gestures," I gestured as such, my awe and bafflement, "The world seems to fall into place."

His gaze dropped a moment but he looked renewed when Alice walked back in.

"It's a fresh one," she said apologetically, swapping the old mug for the new in a peace offering.

He smiled warmly and it broadened by the minute. Uncas doesn't smile on a whim, it's normally instigated by an external source. But this time, he smiled first without cause. Alice stalled, before creeping past him suspiciously. Understandable for I too wondered what on earth changed his stoicism into a smile. I would say 'Alice' but the laugh lines ran deeper than that.

Just then, Nathaniel barged in, his eyes set and jaw firm. We all paused and looked at him expectantly,

"Can't find a runner."

Uncas frowned and was about to offer but Alice boldly stopped him,

"Do that and you'll tear the stitches and worsen the wound."

It was very demanding of her. Uncas shrugged almost too willingly. His brother nodded at Alice, pleasantly taken with her impulsive disapproval.

"The girl's right," Nathaniel agreed, his eyes locking on her before they drifted to me, "But I wasn't looking for him."

"You're not looking for me either. Cora's still in the hospital." I responded sharply. Uncas snorted but Nathaniel looked deadly serious,

"You said that you knew where the Fort was."

"A comment," which I was surprised he heard, "Not a volunteer."

"All the same. We need someone, seems like you're the only one left."

"What about yourself, hmm?"

He smirked,

"Cora's still in the hospital."

I rolled my eyes and was suddenly very annoyed at this. Had no one been chastising me for the unfortunate fact that I was not exactly good with navigating the Frontier nor particularly heroic? Sure, I meant it, I knew how to get to the other Fort but...but...and more but's.

"Listen," Nathaniel turned his full attention to me, looking me in the eye with an intense blue gaze, "The Fort will fall if we don't do this. And everybody, Cora, Alice, my father – every noble man here will suffer at the hands of the French. Munro won't quit. We need to do this. You need to do this. For the good of everyone, not just us."

I stared at him, my hands beginning to shake, my heart beginning to race, my decision unbelievable unto myself.

I sighed obligingly. Deeply and submissively. For what could I do against such a plea?

He grinned at me and I almost slapped him. Almost.

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I changed my clothes from my dry, dirty and, I have to admit, smelly buckskin tunic and into the French uniform I had in my bag. I figured that if I looked like a Frenchman, if only briefly, it might spare me some unwanted death scares. Of course I only had to make it through the clearing first. There was a lot of gunfire and spear throwing to get through before I could do a straight run into the darkness.

I took deep rattling breaths and was about to crumble into a corner and cry again when a soft knock came on the door.

I sniffed and wiped away my cowardliness aggressively,

"Hello?"

Chingachgook entered quietly, leaving the door ajar as he stepped into the room. He looked around me with the warmth of a fire and folded his arms at my appearance. I'd done my hair in a tight ponytail and it felt like I was a different person looking out of different eyes.

"Hello, Traveller." He said gently, "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

I reckoned I sounded a little more sullen than was intended. The wizened Mohican's eyes appeared to crinkle differently, conveying a certain amount of fused pity and helplessness.

"You are ready. My sons are good shots. They will not miss."

"I'll take your word for it."

"This is good of you. Brave."

"It feels stupid. Cowardly."

"Anyone who runs through hell for the sake of others is not a coward," He responded, his jaw set, tone stern, "I do not believe you to be in anyway a coward. Just more aware of your fear. There is nothing wrong with this. Bravery does not mean no fear. Believe me, child, I'm scared too."

I just blinked at him. I was drifting from him, my mind elsewhere. The niggling tug of Illinois was gnawing at my seams.

Chingachgook inhaled sharply, his arms falling to his sides,

"We must go."

I followed him out, lagging behind, only half listening to him,

"Keep to the road. Run the way you know and do not waver. When you have received the answer, come straight back. Make the sound of an animal you know when you are near and we will be here to let you in. My sons and I."

He turned to me,

"Do you hear me?"

"Run straight there and run straight back." I confirmed, gesticulating meekly with my hands the look of claws, "Roar."

He huffed, slightly unimpressed but I think he accepted that he wasn't going to get much more out of me. We passed Munro who stared at me with sharp disapproval, obviously just as unimpressed as Chingachgook but by the concept of a woman doing the job.

Fair. So was I. But he nodded at me in some manner of thanks and watched me go to the gates where Uncas and Nathaniel waited at the foot of the Fort's wall.

"Ready?" Nathaniel asked carefully, for once, his humour lacking.

"Don't miss," I warned wanly.

He nodded and went up to the look out point above. Uncas waited a moment, his fierce eyes boring into me before he said with a very calm assurance,

"I won't miss."

Chingachgook squeezed my shoulder.

"As fast as you can. As carefully as you can. Good luck, Traveller."

He left me to climb the Fort steps to his sons. Nathaniel gave me the go ahead and I nodded. I walked hesitantly towards the gate. The new gate keeper smiled encouragingly at me before slowly heaving the gate open.

"Safe journey." He opened it just enough for me to leap through. I felt the letter in my pocket and once assured that I had everything, I bolted. I shot through the gate without looking around, my tomahawk out. I don't remember a time where I had been more alert to my surroundings. My own breathing was loud in my ears. I saw the warriors in the trees ahead sooner than the others I'm sure. In light of this, I readied myself for my own defence. I was aware of someone who lunged for me, missed and attempted to pursue me but I heard a shot fired and the hurried footsteps came to an abrupt halt accompanied by a low grunt, promptly followed by a dull thud.

Another opponent came roaring out from the trees to my left but was shot down before I had the time to worry.

Another, bolder man, a French soldier clad in the light blue of my own uniform came charging out from the clearing, he was coming in at an angle. It didn't seem like I was going to out run him so I gathered my courage and prepared to fight. I was about to swing as he was to do the same but he cried out loudly in the nick of time and tumbled to the ground. He fell in my path and I just a managed to avoid him before I, too, fell.

It seemed I was clear. I could see no one ahead, could hear no one behind.

I signalled my thanks and ran on.

"Run straight!" I told myself breathlessly, "Run straight."


	7. Chapter 7

I ran until the sounds of war were gone. I ran until my lungs burned, my feet ached and my heart pounded in my head. I ran until I just about collapsed. Fuelled by adrenaline, I had been running in just about full sprint for about an hour. When I realised the immediate danger was over, I pretty much collapsed. My chest was heaving and my breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps as I sank to the ground, my back against a nearby tree.

I don't know how long I sat for but it felt like long enough. 5 minutes could have been eternity as far as I was concerned. Moments are life times when time is of the essence.

So as soon as I had caught my breath, I heaved myself up with shaky legs and plodded on. Dawn creeping through the canopy as time wore on. Every once in a while, I thought myself strong enough, I jogged a fair few miles before having to stop.

I was ever alert. So aware of any sounds or sights, so aware that at one point, after jumping back in dismay at my own shadow – cast out and warped over the flowing river as I bent for water – I wondered if perhaps I was being paranoid and a little too pedantic.

Then an hour or so later I found my paranoia to be entirely justified. I had to make my way up a tree as fast as I could as French soldiers and a few Huron trackers traipsed by nonchalantly. One stopped and scrutinised something on the ground before him, even bending to get a better look.

My heart was racing and it was difficult keeping my breathing even. I thought he might have found my tracks and that it was a matter of moments before he looked up at me.

But he never did. He stood up and continued on. I stayed up there long after they had gone it was almost dusk by the time I thought it safe to come down.

Well into the night time, I saw Fort Edward looming ahead. Cast in deep shadow against the backdrop of a starlit night. I was about to walk straight into the clearing and the remembered my uniform. It was French. It didn't matter back at Fort William Henry but it mattered now.

And, I grimaced as I remembered, it would matter going back.

I pulled off the lilac blue coat and put it in my bag, rolling it up tight and acknowledging the bite of the cold night air. I tried to fit the tomahawk in but it didn't fit and I sure as hell wasn't leaving it behind. I looked around, surveying the clearing before taking a step out.

No sooner had I done so, than a voice from a far stopped me in my tracks. I was unsettled by the disembodied voice,

"Halt!" it called at me, an eerie echo following it, "Who goes there?"

"A friend of the Crown!" I called back, scanning the Fort walls for a sign of life, "I have a message from Colonel Munro!"

Silence ensued and I was worried I had been abandoned. But then the Fort gates opened and a small troop of three soldiers marched out, guns in hand and trained on me as they escorted me in and non-too lightly.

I had two strong hands digging deeply into each arm. Every time I scorned them and tried to shake free, their hold tightened.

"What do you think I'm here to do, hmm?" I snapped, "A lone woman arriving alone at a fully occupied British Fort...assassinate your superior? For what! Let. Go!"

I yanked myself free and was about to pay the price for my audacity but then the famed Colonel Webb arrived just in time, walking down a flight of stairs with an air of easy authority, a man dangerously close to getting caught on the whim of power with disregard for the consequence. His voice flowed carelessly but like gravel and he waved a lifeless hand at his soldiers who stood frozen in time, half way between grabbing me and letting me be,

"Leave her. She is no threat to us..." He eyed me up, mocking me, adding with a slippery amusement, "Evidently."

"You'll be surprised at how much quicker a tomahawk moves in close proximity than a gun, Colonel." I snarled in response. I have quite a fiery temper and it doesn't always work to my advantage. I paid dearly for my remark as my arms were yanked and twisted painfully behind my back, my weapon pried from my fingers and was further pulled away from the Colonel who watched my pained expression and severe treatment with cold indignantly.

"Unwise comments should not come from someone in your position easily," He said with a soft malice. I discerned that this was a man with an authority that was feared rather than respected.

"Search her," He added and watched as one soldier suddenly forced his hands upon my person, fondling every part of me looking for God knows what, meanwhile my bodice that held my breasts at bay was unintentionally or otherwise, I'm not sure, was undone. I felt my chest sag and I grimaced.

"Nothing, Sir," The soldier confirmed finally.

I apologised quite quickly for my behaviour and was soon after released, free to rescue an already bad situation from getting any worse. The search was unnecessary. The Colonel knew it, I knew it, the soldier knew it. An assertion of dominance was all it was and as far as food chains go, I was quickly aware that, here, I was at the bottom.

We were escorted to his office, filled with military decor and lined with maps. More maps and battle plans occupied the tables alongside scribbled notes and letters.

I took this all in with a small amount of awe. War and army must have been this man's entire life. There were no photos or soft looking letters or even trinkets that suggested family or friends.

Once he had asserted himself in the centre of the room, legs spread dominantly and hands clasped behind a broad chest and straight back; staring out of hard, blue eyes at me. Eyes that differed so much from Colonel Munro's. At least Munro had the visible capacity to soften at will.

"You have a letter," he stated coldly. I nodded and reached inside the jacket pocket to present it to him.

He snatched it from me and I hid a scowl. He read it in silence and he must have read it a thousand times over because, I swear to the high heavens, we were standing there for hours. We weren't but when your breasts are out and about, you're tired, more than a little afraid and not to mention very hungry; time stretches on a little bit.

He finally gave it back to me (though I'm not sure what I was supposed to do with it) and gave me a shrewd answer, as flat as the earth before we realised it was round,

"I can spare no men."

He had no sympathy, no regret.

"You won't even try...?" I asked incredulously, amazed at how careless he was being towards the Fort William Henry problem.

He glanced at me, almost appearing bored,

"No," he answered, pouring himself a whisky from a bottle he had in a cupboard on the other side of the desk. It was a dire amount in the glass and he drank it sparingly, "I know for a fact that I do not have the men."

"The Fort is going to fall!" I protested, pushing my luck, "If you don't do something God knows what will happen to them. There are families in there, some of the Frontiersman have families they need to go –"

"That, fortunately, is not my problem, Miss. That Fort was destined to fall the moment Munro decided he was going to try and defend it. The French have been occupying the surrounding parts for months so the fool decided to lay claim to it. Inevitably, the French marched on him."

I stared at this man in front me, my blood boiling.

"How can you be so dismissive?" I hissed.

"I'm being practical." Webb retorted, "If you make a foolish error then foolish consequences will follow. He's a poor judge of character and a poorer judge of practicality thus his situation has him in hell. I will not march the few men I have to a losing battle. Munro will have to lose on his own."

I gazed at him, my rage simmering. He wasn't practical. He had a fuming dislike for Munro was what it was.

It was petty and got in the way, so who was the bigger man? The man who asked a friend turned enemy to help save his people or the man who covered up vengeance in a thick blanket of war and excuse.

Munro had two daughters and no wife, at least not with him, and was leading a battalion through hell. The hardships were evident on his face, past mistakes were etched in his wrinkles and it was a perfectly normal and an expected thing to make mistakes. Even in war time. He was asking for help. He was a noble man. A good man.

This Colonel Webb had been bettered by Munro on more than one occasion, I'm sure. Jealousy and scorn had reared their beastly heads and the humiliation of being bettered by a figuratively softer edged (If you will...Munro does not appear soft in anyway...) man had him take a stab at vengeance at every opportunity. Even this one.

Secretly, unbeknownst to him, Munro had beaten him again. Willing for forget the fickle laws of men and enemies to look at the more important laws of camaraderie.

I felt a sudden surge of loyalty to the Colonel of Fort William Henry. I straightened,

"Very well. Put that in a letter, please Sir. I'll leave with it right away."

He nodded. As he wrote, he let a rather snide remark slip,

"And sending a woman to do a soldiers job, too. Poor judgement of character indeed."

I had no idea what that was supposed to mean but that dug deep into my bones and the rage came back.

"My character, Sir, got that damned letter to you without getting caught, shot at, ripped, torn, wet or any other sign of damage. I think the Colonel did alright in judging my character. He took a risk and that is far more worthy of heroism than any display of practicality you claim to have."

I got such a look, I thought that maybe I wouldn't be leaving at all. But instead he said calmly to me, as if ignoring what I had said,

"I'm surprised you got here. I'll be more surprised if you make it back. Give Munro my regards and good luck. Unfortunately we have no supplies to send with you," he gave me swooping look, "All the best to you."

He turned from me and that was it. I stalked out of the room, snatching my tomahawk back from one of the soldiers and made for the gate.

At which point, I spun on my heels and hit the man who had searched me in the face. My knuckles exploded with pain but still worked. But blood burst from his nose like water under pressure. I stole his musket and water flask and bolted into the night.

I heard roars of disapproval and threat chasing after my shadows but nobody came after me. I stopped about a mile into the woods to catch my breath. It took me a moment to realise that the Colonel was right on one thing; how was it going to make myself known as a British allay? Fort Edward was empty save the British inside of it. William Henry…well, obviously.

My animal sound...whatever I decided on would be lost to canon fire and screams. Especially because I'll be running. I don't think Chingachgook thought about this. Unless he was trying to comfort me.

Instead, he gave false hope. Damn him.

Then there was the other problem. The French had been occupying those parts for some time, apparently...where were they?

I gathered my wits and walked on. Suddenly every part of me was on edge. I jumped at every sound. I was alone in the wilderness and I was vulnerable.

But fatigue caught up with me and I had to stop. I had got to Fort Edward impossibly quickly. I felt like the journey back was going to take a little longer.

I climbed a nearby tree and sat, waiting for dawn. As it were, I fell asleep. I wish I hadn't. Rays of dawn pierced my eyes and I blinked into wakefulness. I looked around to see whether I had any visitors but couldn't see any evidence.

Save one.

It was just a beaded bracelet. That could have been there the whole time, though. It was dark, there were a 1001 things I could have missed. Then I looked back.

My trail as clear as day, branches bent where I had pushed through, dirt kicked up from where I'd come to stop.

I put my hands on my hips and took a breath. It would either be a big problem, or it would be nothing. Still, it worried me.

I opted to be more careful this time.

I went on. One eye on the road, one eye on the trees. I walked slowly when perhaps I should have run. I wondered off the road and doubled back on myself multiple times just in case I was being followed.

However, when I look into it, my gut wasn't twisted. No instinctive twang told me that I was being tracked. It was only in my head that I envisioned a gruelling failure of getting caught by the French and never making it back to Chingachgook and the others, back to my friends.

As imaginative as I was with worry coursing through me, I managed not to get caught by anybody or anything.

I walked until dusk and then with not enough time to waste, I decided than I need to throw caution to the wind. I needed to go.

I ran for it. It was a slow start but soon I was racing through the undergrowth. The sound of cannon fire was coming up. War was ahead. The time had come to start planning how I was going to make it through the clearing without getting shot at by both sides.

Without dying, really.

Sheer dumb luck, here we go. I stopped short of the clearing. A good mile or so but I could still see the red sky. I took off my coat and was going to leave it when the instincts kicked in and I stopped. Apart from the Canon fire there was nothing else.

No buzzing life, no wind, no nothing. My own breathing became impossibly loud. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end and I shivered though I wasn't cold.

I decided not to turn around. I knew what my tracks looked like. I'd been caught...one way or another. I thought frantically about what my options were. If I ran, I'd get shot and killed. If I waited any longer...I'd get caught and possibly killed. Should I tear up the letter?

I took a single step forward but something knocked me sideways and I fell awkwardly to the ground, my arm getting caught painfully beneath my body.

I screamed. For no other reason than for the mere sake of screaming.

I lashed out this way and that, finding my feet just once before I was brought to the ground again. A strong hand wrapped itself about my mouth. I bit down hard and tasted the metallic twang of life which elicited a loud howl of pain by my right ear. In response, I was spun around so fast that I felt dizzy. A sharp pain got me just above my temple and then I was free of entrapment. But I couldn't move. I swayed dangerously. I reached up to my head to feel what had happened to me but my hand didn't make it far before I dropped to the ground.

I woke up a long while later. I always thought that being knocked out would be like a very long sleep. But it's not. Dear. God. It is not.

It's like coming back from the dead; your whole body comes too slowly, in a manner that suggests that it entirely forgot that it was a living vessel. Your breathing comes heavily, your limbs burn for no reason at all. My right arm was screaming for a reason. I know that.

Memory comes back with a head ache, well it did in my case. I've only been knocked out once.

I struggled to move and wondered if that was because my body was still trying to decide whether I was alive or not. Then I realised it was because I was bound. My wrists pressed together at my waist, my ankles bound tightly.

I growled in frustration after realising my situation. I managed to work myself into a sitting position and attempted to figure out how I was going get out of my binds.

But a small troop of French and Huron men entered my shelter, headed by a small man with impeccable dignity and grace, clean shaven and tense of eye. But he seemed like he belonged in a play of some kind.

"Bonjour, Madam," he said with a thick French drawl and bowed dramatically, "My name is General Montcalm. I apologise for the situation but we can never be too sure."

I just looked at him. I let my eyes waft over everyone within immediate vision, taking them in.

"Who are you?" he asked, drawing my attention back to him.

"Who am I?" I asked with scorn, displaying my bonds, "I'm just a messenger. I'm not even part of the army! The bonds are tight...if you wouldn't mind..."

Nobody moved. The general continued to look at me expectantly. I was defeated.

"Marie. Marie Moncrief."

"Your accent..." Montcalm noted, frowning in thought, trying to decipher without question, "You are not English. Nor are you American. You draw your words out as if you were but...I cannot place it. Parlez-vous Francaise"

I just looked at him. I'd rather be nobody than to be seen as an enemy for either associating with the English or for treason. Claiming French citizenship might well have me hanged. So I held back and played dumb. As far as anyone was concerned, French was lost to me.

"No?" He cocked his head. I think he saw right through me. My silence gave me away. I had seemingly shot myself in the foot, still,

"Elle est Francaise." He turned to a man next to him, "Je Peux dire. Femme intelligente."

There it was. He said he could tell I was French. Said I was smart.

I didn't feel so smart.

I dropped my eyes, trying to hide any verbal recognition that might give me away.

"What were you running back and forth for the English for?" he asked abruptly after a moments rest.

"Nothing." I shrugged. I'm a terrible liar. Montcalm laughed.

"You felt like running laps, did you?" they all laughed. I forced a smile but failed, "You are fast. It took my men hours to catch you. Smart of you to wear a disguise, too."

He help up the French coat I had squeezed into my bag. That being said, I would never see that bag again.

He knelt down, scrutinising my clothing choice. I knew what the next question would be. I was scrambling for suitable lies to throw him off.

"Where did you get that uniform?"

"A dead soldier I found in the forest."

"You reportedly made the clearing in it when you left the Fort." He was amused. I felt like I was being mocked. He knew more than I was aware of.

"I never said I found it nearby."

He cocked his head at me then started abruptly on a story I would rather not have heard.

"A story of a girl, fathered by an English man and Mothered by a French woman made the rounds a couple of months back. When war broke out, the father refused to fight because his wife was...French." He said this in a nonchalant manner, almost theatrical, "The father was hanged. The mother shot. The girl...vanishes. Do you know anything about this story?"

I shook my head.

"No?" He cocked his head, "You see, we have been ordered to look for her for reasons I'm unable to disclose. The problem is...America is big."

I had no doubt. I won't lie, though, my fear was growing. I even glanced down at my chest as best I could to see whether my racing heart could be seen trying to escape my chest. The strange knowing look Montcalm had was slowly but surely coming within the reach of reason. I was worried, to say the least.

Then he changed the subject altogether.

"Hmmmm..." He stood up abruptly, a sudden change in his demeanour, "You are a woman. Because you are a woman, it would have been inappropriate for me to have searched your person while you were not conscious."

"I thank you kindly." My eyes darted to all in the tent, unsure of what was to happen next.

"But you are awake and I will ask only once; where is the letter?"

"What letter?" ugh...fickle, Marie. Montcalm smirked.

"Sa recherche."

I flinched as men, both soldiers and Huron warriors, surged forward to search me but the general held up his hand and everything stopped.

"Doucement." _Gently._

This time, only one man came forward. Hoisting me to my feet, he patted me down. Credit goes to him under the watchful eye of Montcalm, for searching every other inch of my body before finally deducing that my breasts were the only place left to hide whatever note I had.

The soldier was about to undo my laces but I decided I'd had enough men fondle me. Besides, it would inevitably be found.

"OK." I heaved and the soldier stopped, "Je te le donnorai." I'll give it you.

Stepping back on Montcalm's command while the general merely raised an eyebrow at my sudden, fluent French submission. My hands were cut loose and I was free to take the note out myself.

Giving me a knowing smile, Montcalm read the note. The smile slid from his face and he looked genuinely pained. As if he felt the humiliation of defeat on behalf of the British. As if he was ashamed to read of his impending victory.

"What will you do?" I asked him cautiously, speaking French freely. After all, I'd been caught out and Montcalm knew he was the victor.

He gazed at me gravely but said nothing for moments on end. There was enough time for me to think up all sorts of monstrosities to come. He'd continue to fight and kill for sport. He'd kill me publicly and declare victory to humiliate the Colonel. He'd fight to take over the Fort then hold everyone captive. However, the more I looked upon this man's face, the more I doubted it.

"It is sad a thing for Colonel Munro. An honourable man, abandoned by his allays in Fort Edward. Webb. I don't believe I have had the pleasure." He looked up at me.

"He doesn't deserve the pleasure of anyone's company," I sneered.

Montcalm smiled sadly.

"Clearly not." Then he turned to the man at the door, "Cease fire. Send your best man to Munro with a white flag. Declare a parlay."

The soldier saluted and departed briskly.

Then Montcalm turned back to me, handing the note off to a second soldier off to his right. Things got serious again as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Marie Moncrief," He said thoughtfully, then smiled softly, almost apologetically. The end was neigh, it felt like. Not that I judged him unkind or unfair – in fact, much to my surprise, quite the contrary. But he was bound by the law. I was about to find out what he knew.

He turned to a soldier and muttered something inaudible then that soldier turned to leave. We were running out of soldiers at this rate.

I started planning my escape but no sooner had I done so, the soldier was back. He handed Montcalm to parchments; one with a picture, one with unreadable and aged scribbles held together with an official seal.

He looked them over carefully before showing me the picture of myself. My heart dropped into my stomach. I felt like a fugitive. Either my mother had forgotten in desperate hope or she had lied about my heritage situation. Now I would never know. Either way, apparently I couldn't be both.

"It is you, no?"

What could I do?

"I am sorry. I wish it would not be this way. As it happens, we have your birth certificate." How they got that was beyond me, "You are, by birth, French."

I frowned.

"Your mother," He continued, "God rest her soul, thought it safer to nationalise you as French. Smart woman, like you. But...this would not have mattered. Now it does." He began to pace, placing his words carefully so that I understood exactly why he was doing what he was doing.

"I find you now, working for the English. I hold no ill will towards the men you are working for. They are brave men but you are French. You understand what I am telling you."

He locked eyes with me. I understood perfectly well. I had a ton of arguments but they would not have worked. Montcalm was a man who abided to the law without fail. He was a man of justice, no matter where I placed my hand, I would be wrong.

Treason. I was about to be done for treason. Exactly what I had feared.

"I am sorry, Marie." I believe it. "But I cannot allow such an act to go unanswered."

"What is to happen to me?"

He took a breath, considering an answer,

"When we have taken the Fort, you will be hanged."

I almost burst into tears. But I managed to keep my composure. Just.

"If anyone would want to see me...my friends...would they-"

"I would never deny anyone the right to last goodbyes." He put his hand over his heart, "You have my word."

I nodded.

"I apologise..." I said meekly, my legs threatening to give way to allow me to plunge into despair.

"You should not," he said sternly, drawing my startled gaze from the ground, "You did what you believed was right. But you were caught. That is what you should be sorry for."

He left me then, adjusting his uniform accordingly, before exiting. A powerful voice interrupted his exit though and he stopped just outside of the entrance.

"Magua." The general bowed deeply.

"The French father has broken our agreement," the Huron warrior said sharply. Once in view, I saw him to be the 'Mohawk' guide that had mislead us all into this situation that day on the road to Albany. I strained my hearing as Montcalm responded calmly,

"It is honour before vengeance, my friend. The Grey Hair is defeated. He has been abandoned by his friends. I have a duty both as a man and a soldier to do right in the eyes of God and my country. I must allow him the choice to accept defeat before I allow us to trample him."

"The French Father is blinded by this thing you call honour," Magua replied bitterly, "The Grey Hair is not so honourable as you think. He put Magua's children and wife under the knife and sold Magua to the Mohawk. Over time, Magua became a Mohawk but he has never forgotten who he is. But so long away from his people, his _people_ have forgotten who he is. Magua is now a ghost. No blood burns in his veins. Only rage. The Grey Hair is responsible for that."

"Can Magua not let go of this anger? It must burn him inside," Montcalm offered sympathetically. But Magua rounded on him,

"Only when The Grey Hair and his seed are wiped from this earth, will Magua be free. Magua cannot escape the pain until he has had vengeance." The Huron narrowed his eyes savagely at Montcalm, "You have taken that right from Magua again."

"I do not mean to cause Magua more pain," the general apologised profusely, "I can only do what is right by me. But I can promise Magua, that I will not stand in the way of any vengeance Magua feels he must exact. On my honour," He paused for effect, "You have my word."

This...Magua, this angry, tormented man allowed his face to relax briefly,

"Magua will cut out his heart but not before Magua has made him watch while Magua wipes his seed from the earth. When that is done and the Grey Hair knows his seed is dead, then Magua will kill him."

Montcalm was silent. I could not begin to imagine what he must be thinking. But I imagine there must be parts of him that were currently being torn apart by two different points of moral obligation. He said no more, bowing deeper still before Magua, taking his leave from the Huron who had caught my eye and was now staring at me with a gaze of steel.

Those eyes were hardened by torture and torment. A memory of love that was forcefully stamped out. I must admit, Magua's account of Munro had me thinking twice about the Colonel. It was a cold thought.

He was devoid of all of those passions that came with being happy. Now, a ghost stood in the entrance. An incarnation of hate.

I dropped my eyes to my bound hands. He hated me. So much hate was there, that despite myself pity and unwillingness to die, I hated me too.

* * *

 **A/N So I strayed a little. So shit has hit the proverbial fan for Marie. We need a rescue attempt, I think. Hang in there, team. Thanks for sticking with it, again. I appreciate it. The Guests, the regulars etc.**


	8. Chapter 8

I was in the shit. Let me face that. I was in a very big a hole with a future prospect that looked desperately bleak.

I sat the whole night with my head against the tent pole, contemplating my dire life choices and their consequences. I cried too. I guarantee the grass by my pole is a little greener that its surrounding counterparts.

Dawn arrived and Montcalm strode in in his finest French colours.

He stopped short, taking note of my red, puffy eyes and defeated demeanour.

"We go together to meet Munro," He said softly, "We go to say goodbye."

I was helped up and stabilised as I wobbled on stiff legs, swaying from a brief moment of fatigue.

We marched to meet Munro in the clearing. The dry land outside the Fort was littered with bodies and shredded clothing. The ground grooved and dug out by both cannon fire and spade. Smoke still wafted up into the air in grey wisps where smaller shelters were erected then later burned to the ground. A black, skeletal structure left in their wake.

Munro sat high upon a sturdy, white mare flanked by what appeared to be three, short rows of soldiers. He dismounted once Montcalm arrived.

Montcalm did have a horse. A brilliant steed with heavy hooves but Montcalm had left the powerful thing grazing outside his tent. He had walked through no-man's land to greet the beaten Scotsman. I respected him for that. I still do.

Montcalm removed his hat and swooped in several directions before finally appearing to bow before Munro. By this stage Munro had seen me but made no notion as to my acknowledgement.

"Colonel Munro, it is an honour to meet you in person. I have heard great things about you."

"Montcalm," The Colonel returned tersely, ignoring the praise, "You have called a parlay. What is it that you wish to discuss?"

Montcalm looked momentarily put out but recovered quickly,

"You may have noticed we have your courier. We intercepted her on the way back from Fort Edward."

He snapped his fingers and on cue, a man stepped forward from beside me and read the letter aloud.

I studied Munro's face for any sign of a reaction but the man was a master of discretion.

Once finished, the soldier who had read the letter handed it to Montcalm, who in turn, handed it to Munro to look over and confirm.

Munro turned to engage with two others behind him before turning back.

Montcalm waited patiently.

"It is certified, no?"

Munro nodded stiffly.

"Yes," Montcalm looked grave, "I am sorry for that. But I am offering a truce, now. Give up the Fort and march your people back to the Old Town. Do this and swear to never return or to ambush my men. In return, we will not pursue you nor cause any further damage to you or yours."

Munro seemed reluctant at first but he was a wise man and conceded at last, straightening himself to make up for the humiliation of defeat.

"What of my soldiers?"

"March them home too."

"And my flag?"

"Where it with pride and fly it high," Montcalm said this with the air of a true patriot.

"How much time do I have?"

"How much time do you need, Colonel? Preferably not too long."

Munro turned away from us again. I watched intently as mutters and nods were exchanged between the three men. At long last, Munro returned,

"Very well, Monsieur, we accept your terms and conditions. Grant us two days grace and we will be ready to leave at dawn on the second day."

Montcalm agreed amiably. He was about to express his farewell but Munro, to flood of my relief, finally remembered me.

"What of my runner? Might she return to us?"

Montcalm cast me a sympathetic glance.

"Unfortunately, Monsieur, she is under arrest for treason."

"Treason?" Munro had the grace to look perturbed.

"Indeed. A long story I do not wish to disclose. But she is of French heritage, she is French. Her actions are therefore to be answered by the French. I am sorry."

Munro looked to me for answers but hell if I knew.

He nodded, sparing me one last hardened look before he bowed to Montcalm who swooped in for a second time, bid farewell and left.

Without uttering a single word to me, he left. My floods of relief drying up faster than a stream in summertime.

I stared after him for a long while before I had to be moved. Forcibly lead back to the French camp where I would gaze at nothing until I was to be lead into the Fort, up to the gallows and hanged for being unintentionally British under a French birth right.

No more Chingachgook, Uncas, Alice nor Nathaniel. Life had waved a cruel hand and I. Was in. The shit.

I was distraught, my jaw was set. I could feel my muscles cramping in an effort to stop myself from breaking down. It felt like I had been abandoned.

The honourable Munro didn't even look back. I wondered whether he'd tell anyone at all about me. Whether he would give anyone the option to bid me some kind of a farewell. It would be nice not to be a shadow in someone's memory.

Magua, the tortured soul, met Montcalm as we re-entered the camp. He didn't say anything, he just stopped Montcalm from proceeding any further.

"The truce was accepted, Magua," The Frenchman stated calmly, notably careful around Huron warrior, "He will leave in two days."

"Then the French Father has shown his true colours. He is weak in the face of his enemies," Magua's expression remained placid. His tone flat.

"The French Father knows what defeat is," Montcalm countered sadly, "I know what it is to be left in the dirt with nothing, too. I do not wish that fate upon anyone, least of all Magua. But the Grey Hair is not my enemy anymore."

"He is Magua's," the Huron hissed but Montcalm remained steadfast.

"Then Magua must do what is best by him and his people. Myself and _my_ people will play no further part in Magua's story, Montcalm answered sternly, his bright eyes flashing.

Magua eyed Montcalm slyly before he finally spoke,

"Magua and his people go now, then. We thank the French Father for his help."

It didn't sound like it. His tone was riddled with malice. I wagered assassination and I know Montcalm must have figured this out same as I but Montcalm didn't lift a finger. As far as he was concerned, despite his honour and kindness, Munro and his kin were no longer his problem.

Magua moved off, his people following him to walk past me and the men who held me captive. Magua stopped in front of me, inches from my face. So close I could feel his breath. I could see his eyes.

I was surprised.

He walked and talked with rage and vengeance but his eyes harboured a lot of scarring inside of them. Memories he couldn't get rid of. A pain that would never fade. He balled it up tight and made himself the bitter human being he was now. I saw then what Montcalm must have kept seeing. The reason for the understanding.

"It is good the runner will be gone," Magua announced to everyone but me. I don't know what he meant by it. However, the instinctive know-how of death by his hand to come was intensified.

I winced at these words and at my thoughts. They tore into two different parts of me; the selfish and the selfless. My own skin and my friends.

"I hope Magua finds peace soon!" Montcalm called as the Huron war leader disappeared into the forest.

"At what point, I wonder," Montcalm mused aloud, "Does a man become a murderer in war time? If he kills men everyday...at what point does it become...murder instead of bravery in the name of your country?"

"The moment you enjoy it?" I offered through gritted teeth.

"Magua does not enjoy death. He does what must be done."

"For vengeance" I retorted.

"Each to their own," He waved and I was suddenly lead away from the ponderous Frenchman. He stared after Magua for a long time. Haunted by him, he was. Magua was that sort of man.

Again I sat, for hours on end, contemplating my end and what my last words were to be when I was asked.

'Any last words?' the hangman will ask.

'Nope.' I would say. Nobody who would deny me my life, deserved my last words. I would die laughing in their faces.

By this time, the sun was beginning to droop in the sky and my notion to laugh in their faces was drooping with it.

"Madam?" Montcalm poked his head around the tent flap, breaking my thoughts, "You have visitors."

He smiled and stepped aside, pulling the tent flap aside for 'my visitors' to enter.

Chingachgook looked deeply unsettled, a heavily creased brow made him look old and worried.

Alice entered next, mouth a gape as it always was. Cautious and curious.

Then came Uncas. He looked tired, guiding Alice in, his hand dropping from her waist once in. Alice's own hand, instinctively, went to where it was.

"Travelle," Chingachgook all but whispered, "What am I to do now?"

I tried to smile but could not. He seemed as if he were about to cry. It was touching.

"My white son is to be hanged too," He informed me sadly.

I straightened,

"What? Why?"

"He conspired with the Frontiersmen to abandon the Fort after Munro refused to allow them to go to their families," Uncas answered, his voice soft but had the aftermath of a man who had been screaming a long time. I wondered what it must be like to hear him scream. Loud...I guess.

"But did Hayward not-"

"The soldier denied everything. Now my Son is locked behind iron bars and the girl's sister is on one side while he's on the other. She won't leave him."

I smiled wanly. Well that was something.

"He sends his regards," Uncas offered morbidly.

"I'll see him on the other side," I joked – the gallows humour was all I had left.

Silence settled in. I couldn't bring myself to look at them. Many moments passed before Chingachgook knelt before me, bringing my eyes to look at him. He stroked my cheek affectionately before pulling me into an embrace that had me snivelling into his shoulder.

I heard him sniff before pulling away,

"We go now. We will meet again soon."

He stood up swiftly and left briskly, palming his face without looking at me.

Alice then knelt, having said nothing the whole time. She looked at me with a strange look in her eyes. A calculating look.

"It will be alright," She whispered to me. Her voice shook as she pressed something cool and sharp into my hands. She stood up, reaching for Uncas' hand as she did so. I glanced down then instantly hid the gift down my boot. When I looked up, the duo were holding hands. Uncas was clasping Alice's hand so tight that I could see her fingers turning white as they crunched together but she didn't say anything.

He was stressed. She was afraid. Why and of what? I was grateful for the improvised means of escape but...something was obviously in motion between them. Then it dawned on me that Uncas hadn't known and was just as surprised by it as I.

"We will see you again," She uttered, promise in her words. How brave she was. She pulled Uncas out with her, his glance at me filled with worry and cluelessness. Whatever ideas Alice had, she had not shared them yet. I worried for my life in a different way.  
Whatever plan she had, if it went wrong, I might not make it to the Fort at all.

Then I was left alone again. For the longest time, I sat waiting for darkness. The knife was dropping further and further down my boot, beginning to dig into my ankle but there was no sign of help. At last, the camp around me seemed to quiet down. I decided that this adventure was meant to be done alone. So be it.

I wriggled my boot loose and retrieved the knife.

I cut my bonds as quietly as I could and was about to up and leave through the entrance but then I stopped myself. The entrance would be guarded. I would have to slide out from underneath the back of the tent.

I knelt to do just this but got caught up in a momentary whir of amazement. I had never once imagined myself to be a part of one of those tales of adventure where the hero flees under dead of night from a seemingly hopeless situation.

Yet here I was, moments away from doing just that. I rolled my eyes upon the absurd revelation before lifting the tent fabric the smallest amount. Soldiers wondered about aimlessly while others stood to attention but looked at nothing.

It was the Huron I was worried about. Sure, they'd left but an upturned stomach alongside the flutter of nerves made me weary.

The soft padding of footsteps erupted from the darkness and I quickly shoved myself back in, scrambling with my bonds for an act of falsehood.

The footsteps stopped just outside, right behind me. My heart stopped. I had been seen.

Every dire thought imaginable was racing through my head, making my skin grow cold and limbs shake. Death would come sooner upon the discovery of an escape attempt. I'd be tied up tighter, looked in on more frequently, guarded more ardently.

The tent tendrils lifted and long, slender fingers clawed their way underneath. It was a moment longer before anything else happened. I waited with bated breath.

When it did lift, I couldn't believe my eyes as to who was looking back. Dark, almond eyes with a gaze of steel that relaxed once they'd recognised me.

Uncas spared no time for courtesy or greetings, instead it was a rather terse whisper,

"Let's go."

But where was Alice?

I hopped-to, crawling out again from beneath the tendrils. Uncas was on superhuman-alert, he saw and heard everything. He pointed to an endless void of blackness that was the Americas in the dark, trees like monsters that loomed over borders but daren't come closer.

We fled.

We ran for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes. We flew like ghosts amongst the undergrowth. It felt surreal, the cool night air rushing over me as we tore through the thick of it.

I soon became aware of someone else charging through the forestry to my left. They, too, shot through the darkness like a shadow. Chingachgook, I knew. Another man, only one, was far off to Uncas' right.

Someone else was ahead. We came to a stop not far from this life form. Whoever it was stood very still, unthreatening and unsure.

I've never been more shocked than I was then to find out that Alice was standing in the open, arms folded across her body, trying to keep the cold out.

"Alice?!" I exclaimed breathlessly to find that my words were mimicked by a deeper, baritone voice. Uncas, again, caught off guard by Alice's boldness - but war cries erupted from behind us, a babble of French-Indian voices rose in a peculiar dialect I found difficult to understand. But the message was clear,

"What are they saying?" Chingachgook grabbed my arm, his eyes boring into mine with all the seriousness his Mohican ancestry had given him.

"They know I'm gone." I glanced back, "They're coming."

Chingachgook motioned into the darkness. Suddenly all surrounding figures scattered,

"Hide somewhere!"

Alice took off blindly to find a hiding place and plunged into it leaving Uncas to his own devices before he had the chance to follow.

I dropped down behind a nearby bush on his command. Uncas stared after her briefly before ducking behind a bush not far from me. He wanted to go to her, I could see. Running to her then would have gotten him seen, though, so he had waited.

Smart man.

What Alice was doing out here, I had yet to find out.

Not so smart woman?

Huron warriors and French soldiers were soon within sight; trackers no doubt. The dark, ominous manifestations of malice, they were as they crept around our places of hiding. In the heat of fear and darkness, they could have been mistaken for beasts of the wilderness, all but sniffing the air in order to hunt down their prey. Me. The French woman who was to be hanged according to French jurisdiction. Blasted laws of the lands.

They had just past us when I saw Uncas slowly rise out of the corner of my eye. I tried to signal him, to tell him to stay the bloody hell down. He saw me, I know he did but he ignored me entirely, the bastard, it wasn't the first time.

I was terrified and vexed by what his plan was. I had absolutely no idea until the moment he darted forward. Sprinting past the backs of the predators in unbelievable silence, incredibly sure of foot.

Alice.

He sort of fell gracefully into her hiding place in the nick of time, just as someone turned.

I threw a stone I found at my feet, away from us. Then another.

Someone else threw yet another.

Our pursuers became agitated, unsure of where to look, of what to do, muttering hurriedly to one another.

Then someone, one of us, ran. A lone ranger, the brave man who had accompanied them, disappearing into the night, drawing the war party after him. War party; 5 men with muskets, tomahawks and knives.

I don't know whether that man survived, I don't believe I had ever met him.

We took flight again, breaking out into the open clearing towards the Fort gate. The trenches and empty battle grounds eerily quiet. Except for we 4, fanning out over the grounds, finding the routes that worked best for us as individuals.

The gate creaked open before we had even got there and we snaked through the narrow opening faster than lightening. The gate shut behind us and suddenly, the midnight adventure was over.

Sweat streaked, dirty and overwhelmed with relief. I fell to my knees and cried until I felt like my lungs would altogether stop allowing me to breathe and my diaphragm would spasm until death eased the pain.

I felt wretched. I felt like an outcast. I felt like I had run from deaths clutches only for it to grin after me as if letting me go was part of the plan.

Chingachgook laid a heavy hand atop my head,

"You are safe, child."

Those words were laced with a father's love, his hand channelling that emotion into me. But I couldn't accept it. Not then. Turns out I wouldn't accept it later either but we'll get there in time.

He saw that his words were not helping my break down, that it was something deeper than safety that was gnawing at my being.

If I had just gotten to Illinois, this wouldn't be a problem. There would never have been a problem.

I heard him chastise Uncas sternly, demanding something of him which Uncas refused to relent to. I looked up through swollen eyes to see blurred visions of Chingachgook standing as rigid as a board, gesturing towards Alice as if to blow her away.

Alice stood by idly, unsure of what to do or say, painfully aware that Chingachgook was angry. With Uncas or her was unclear, but whatever it was, it involved her.

She removed herself from that situation and knelt as best she could in her dirty nightgown. I'm amused by the thought now that Alice had come to the rescue in pyjamas. At the time I didn't notice.

"Are you alright?"

She looked so innocent, so concerned that it was almost inconceivable to think that Alice had taken a step outside of the Fort.

My eyes drifted to the silent Mohican taking the wrath of his father and I wondered some more. Relieved to be distracted from my dismal thoughts.

"What were you doing out there?"

Her face dropped and she looked hurt. Hurt dropped and I found traces of frustration. I was just confused. So many emotions were wracking my brain; some mine, some hers. It was a mess.

"Why do you all think that I'm incapable?"

This was not said harshly. It was almost whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked her because I didn't think that at all.

Then her temper began to flare; such a little thing, such a steadily growing rage.

"You all think it. You think that I'm a frilly, invalid school girl. Even after I gave you the knife to set yourself free, you think this." She was searching for some sort of regretful revelation. But I was exhausted. She kept pressing me, "I suppose it would shock you to find that I instigated coming to your rescue? Uncas wouldn't let me go. He was going to go himself but I told Chingachgook so they both went. They took the runner upon my suggestion because at least they'd know about how the camp would be set up, where to go, how to go and all that. And, I might add, he was my friend. I couldn't bear to be stuck, waiting for nothing so I took a step outside. I wanted to go."

She was bordering on hysteria, something was cracking. By this stage Uncas and Chingachgook had lost interest in whatever was going on between them and had turned to Alice upon hearing her little voice begin to rise far beyond the norm.

"I can do these things. I'm not in London. I'm not a child! I was coming to rescue you!"

I stood up. She rose to meet me and she looked me square in the eye, rising to a challenge.  
I was grateful. I was. I really, REALLY was.

"Thank you, Alice." I moved to do something and found myself embracing her. Embracing her in a desperate manner.

I knew she was telling nothing but the truth. I was aware that she probably was the one that initiated my rescue. It just seemed impossible. Despite all the surprises, it still seemed most unlike her. Just as it felt most unlike the men to consider my rescue without her suggesting it.

Emotions were in turmoil though no one was at fault. It was the confusion that warped the sweetness of freedom. I was going to be abandoned by the people I travelled with for so long but rescued instead because of a quiet, young woman who had no idea what the world was like outside of the confines of comfort.

Maybe that was what was needed. The impossible is always accomplished by those who don't know any better.

I took a step away and sniffed. I didn't spare the others a glance. They weren't exactly my Knights in shining armour. I cleared my head and sniffed away my grief,

"Where's your father?" I demanded, marching past the others. Alice hurrying along behind me.

"Probably in his office. Why? What could you possibly want with him now?"

"Uh..." I turned, in between truth and white lies, "Warning."

Alice stalled. Uncas behind her. Chingachgook behind him.

"Warning?"

I didn't respond.

"If you won't answer me, fine," she retorted, "But at least clean yourself up! My father would be more inclined to listen, no less throw you out, if you looked a little bit more civil."

"You would know civil," I quipped. I was met by silence. I turned to find all three frowning at me. The error of my ways dawning on me, "I didn't mean that."

"You did," Alice answered sharply, "You did then even if you don't now. As an apology, you can clean yourself up before seeing my father."

Alice continued to scowl at me. Uncas, however, seemed to gain an air of pride, straightening himself with the corners of his lips quirked up in a smirk. Chingachgook looked mightily impressed.

I groaned, defeated.

"Where?" was all I asked and was swiftly directed to a place to do the deed. I realised, while washing my face, that perhaps she was right. I looked as wretched as I had felt. Still, nothing a little water couldn't fix.

I retied my hair along the way, Alice still trailing along behind me. I stopped at the door, my hand hesitating over the rustic, metal handle.

"Are you sure you want to come in? Your father won't approve of what you have done."

"He doesn't know that I have done it," She gestured to the Mohicans.

"Yeah...," I answered bitterly, "He doesn't approve of us either."

At this, I opened the door to enter without permission. Uncas and Chingachgook followed. I saw Uncas hold Alice's wrist as if to hold her back. It must have worked because I closed the door on her.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The Colonel demanded of us. Then he recognised my face. The colour drained from his own face, his eyes turning hostile.

"What are you doing here?" He hissed, then to the two men, "What have you done? Do you have any idea what bringing her back here means? If Montcalm finds-"

"Montcalm won't gave a damn about where I am now, I assure you," I countered.

"Why would that be? If he knew you to be here, he would think that I have robbed him of French rights and he would attack us! Again!"

"He probably knows that that's the case but believe me, Sir, you've got some pretty serious vengeance to level up with."

Munro narrowed his eyes,

"What do you mean?"

"Magua. Do you know the name?"

"No." He didn't even think about it.

"Are you sure? He knows you like the back of his hand."

"No, I don't know the bloody name or the bastard who belongs to it! Get to the point, girl, I have bigger problems at hand."

"You killed his family, sold him to the Mohawk then inadvertently made him a subject to the 'crown'."

"How dare you mock the Crown!" He was referring to the gesture I made while I was referring to it. "Have you no honour?"

"How dare I? How dare you! The most honourable man in military service is a mile away, waiting for dawn to salute you and yours while you march the British flag back to wherever the hell you're going back too. Magua was privy to him until parlay occurred. He deferred every attempt Magua made to attack you anyway, so he's gone. That being said, Magua is no longer Montcalm's problem. So it makes sense now doesn't it? If I'm with you, he won't have to worry about me being on death row."

Munro was silent, looking at me through eyes that didn't know whether to be enraged or guilty. So a tip of the hat to drama as I polished off my speech,

"We've been running from a faceless shadow for weeks. It's all because of you. You talk about honour but you don't even know what you've done."

8888888888

It turned out that my raging did nothing. I was threatened with treason and hanging for the second time and ordered to leave the Fort.

I would have but...

Uncas and I walked back to nowhere in silence. Chingachgook having taken his leave with a heavy heart it seemed. We may not like Magua very much, but who's to say they we might not have done under different circumstances. We don't know who he is.

"Have you spoken to Alice yet?" I asked after a time.

Uncas sighed and shook his head.

"Does Chingachgook know?" I pressed, "What was he saying to you earlier? Outside the gate."

Uncas looked uncomfortable,

"He was asking me how I could be stupid enough to take Alice with me. How I could be stupid enough to try a rescue alone."

"But you didn't…she came alone."

A fatigued, desolate look passed over his strong face but then it was gone. I think I blinked. I tried to find it again but all traces were wiped away and all that was left was Uncas' severely sturdy jaw.

"I take it he doesn't know, then..." I commented quietly.

"No."

He wondered off from me, absent minded after that. I couldn't find either of them for the rest of the night.

I tell you, that brief alien expression that passed over the young chief's face haunted me.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N So this chapter was bloody insane to write. It's a little graphic...maybe. Uncas goes a little mad much to everyone's - mostly Marie's surprise but go with it. It will be explained. Damn massacre, I was like Jesus they're all gonna die at this rate! Then I realised it was my story and I could actually fix these things. Don't forget to review. I do like them. But leave out your kaka ones, I don't care whether you like OC's or not.  
Right, off we go.  
**

* * *

I wondered through the halls of the Fort; everyone was preoccupied with getting their things together. Fearful of being left behind.

I wondered into the cells where they kept the liars, the thieves, the deserters and the treasonous. I found Nathaniel and paid my respects. Cora, as was said, sat by the white Indian determinedly but for the life of me, I couldn't think of a single thing she might be planning on doing. Them bars were thick metal. Blow the Fort down and those will hold the memory.

I left shortly after. I'm not sure how the mechanics might work behind making love in a cell between bars but it seemed that I was unwelcome and something heady hung in the air.

So I wondered back and found myself in the kitchen where all things past and present seemed to unfold.

"Are you alright?"

I looked up. Alice's familiar face looking at me with that familiar doe-eyed concern.

"Yes." I wasn't. I think we'd reached a stage where we'd lie to others and ourselves with regards to the state of our existence. If I asked her, Alice would tell me she was fine. But...We weren't.

"How'd the talk with my father go? What was so urgent?" she moved from the doorway into the room, fidgeting slightly, unsure of what to do with her hands. She played with a pencil on the table. She kneaded the chair. She braided her hair.

She had heavy bags below her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well...or at all. She had lost weight. She was slim already but her bones about her cheeks grew sharper, the flesh sinking deeper into the hollows. I frowned but let it wash over me, I was too tired.

"Uneventful. Useless."

She remained quiet, gazing at me steadily. I grew more and more uncomfortable until I was compelled to tell her of the impending danger. This wisp of a woman went white.

"What are we going to do?" she asked incredulously.

I shrugged.

"Run like a deer from the hunter when the time comes."

Alice's eyes shone in recognition, I've always liked the phrase but never had much use for it until now. The past few weeks had been filled with opportunities but one should never overuse a phrase as good as that.

"Surely we have more soldiers than this Huron man has..." She answered hopefully.

"Do these soldiers have as much hate? Do they know the lay of the land like the back of their hands? This country is big, the people who know it are bigger. There's no hope for the ignorant."

"Don't speak like that," Alice chirped assertively, "At the very least, _we_ aren't ignorant and when we are we have –"

Uncas walked in, blood stained his shirt by his hip where his stitches must have been ripped in our grand escape. He stopped when he saw Alice and I.

"We have what?" He asked.

Nobody answered but the look on Alice's face outshone all the darkness. Smitten she was with the look of relief and aw at his person. Obviously she was going to say we have him. Which was true.

The look that was returned was a proud one. Honoured to be gazed upon in such a manner. Compelled to live up to and surpass expectations. How many times had he done so for Alice, I wonder. As much as I saw, as much as I was told, I would never know everything.

Then she saw his bleeding side.

"You're hurt!"

We watched her hurry out of the room and down the hall.

"Why didn't you get it stitched up again?" I asked him. He shrugged,

"The line was too long."

I didn't want to think about that. Too many wounded and dying men waiting for assistance from two, maybe three doctors.

"I'll live."

"You will, indeed," Alice quipped, hurrying back in, armed with needle and thread, "I Daren't say I'm a physician of any sort but I can sow up small wounds."

She gestured for Uncas to hold his shirt out of the way. The man took it off entirely. Alice froze, taking him in in full. Uncas pretended not to notice.

I rolled my eyes,

"How necessary is that?" I scorned, "She's sowing up a cut not your heart. For God's sake, man!"

He looked over at me with lazy disposition,

"Entirely," said he.

Alice swallowed and tried not to look at him. Her fingers were nimble and worked swiftly. Careful not to keep contact for longer than was necessary. Though I doubt Uncas would have minded. He was showing off after all which he never got the chance to do very much. Nathaniel was a scene stealer. Uncas was a part of the production. But here and now, Alice was focusing all her attention on him and I could see how he revelled in it.

It was...sweet. They were sweet. Over time, she seemed to relax and her work became rhythmic with the steady ins and outs. Uncas seemed to forget his position of empowerment and sat quite still. Sometimes he picked up a wave or two of her hair before letting it drop. He'd then stare at nothing.

Then it came again, that haunting expression I'd seen once before. A desolate, desperate momentary despair. As if he was suddenly aware of an intangible concept he'd never obtain. I looked hard at it for it lasted this time; both of them seeming to have forgotten I was there.

I'll forgive them; tired and wordless I stood in a relatively dark part of the kitchen.

His gaze dropped to the crown of her head. He lifted a hand to...actually... I don't know. It never happened. Whatever moment was dangled before him, he didn't take advantage of. Whatever feeling was about to be expressed, was instead suppressed. Alice would not get the pleasure of this particular moment.

If I look back on it now, I might have told him to just do it. It was important. There'd never be a moment quite like it again, I feel.

Anyway.

"Marie, could you pass me some tape, please. There should be some behind you."

It took me my own moment to exit that peculiar state of mind to do what Alice asked of me. I handed it to her and she placed a bandage over the wound, then taped it to his mahogany skin.

When she was done, he put his shirt back on and smiled at Alice affectionately. As she looked at him, he looked at her but what could happen would never happen, not while I was there. For that, I regretted having ever come to the kitchen.

888888888

Morning time came with a clear blue sky with a harsh red brightness lining the horizon. I stood upon the Fort wall looking over the barren land that had been torn up by the hands of war. The road seemed clear; flat and easy.

The French were already lining up to send us on our way.

Below me, wagons were being linked up to the cattle and mules that would pull them. Said wagons were getting loaded up by the people that built them.

"Traveller."

I turned and found Chingachgook climbing the steps to me. I smiled wearily,

"Chingachgook."

"Are you coming?" He asked me quizzically, head cocked and eyebrows arched. I nodded,

"I have yet to say 'no', my friend. You might as well stop asking."

"The moment I stop asking will be the moment you decide you will go."

I looked at him. He smiled warmly at me, putting a heavy hand on my shoulder, "We must go."

I followed him down, casting one more cautious glance at our road.

Chingachgook's body sagged. His weight too heavy for his feet. The weight of the world on his shoulders as the outcome of his white son's fate was unclear. He had not slept in many nights.

He glanced back at me and caught my eye. I was surprised at being caught in my scrutiny.

"I'm fine," He assured me. I nodded. 'Yes. So am I.'

Not too long after we'd gotten back than did Munro call upon us hoards of stragglers to march.

The Munro girls were ahead of us on a horse some few yards away. Cora's brown bun bobbed in and out of the mass of human life and flags. Nathaniel was trying to see her through it, craning his neck this way and that.

I felt a hand on the small of my back, a gentle push as we approached Montcalm, now sitting upon his horse. I turned. Chingachgook was holding a ragged, old farmers hat that seemed to collapse around the rim. It would hide my face.

I'd said Montcalm probably wouldn't care. As far as I was aware, he didn't for no search party came knocking on the Fort door and he didn't look particularly phased now but no chances.

Once my hat was in place, big it was and limited my eyesight to the ground, Chingachgook urged,

"Go, stay low."

So I wondered off from the trio briefly, wading through the human current. Daring a peak at Montcalm as I went. He sat rigid, straight backed with a salute firmly in place. Thus, his soldiers did the same.

It took us at least forty minutes to get past them. The French had lined up along the road in 'honour' of Munro. It was a headache.

At last, however, I deemed it safe to go back to my traveling family.

I pulled off my hat and dropped it in the mud.

"It's a shame," Chingachgook sighed, "It suited you."

Uncas chuckled but Nathaniel appeared not to have heard. As for me, I waved it off.

"I need another tomahawk," I said instead, "The French took everything. Now all I've got is what I'm wearing."

Chingachgook nodded thoughtfully,

"We will find you one."

"Chingachgook," I said, suddenly serious, wanting him to understand me clearly, "You heard my warning. You and Uncas both did. I don't have anything to defend myself with. The girls are quite a distance from us and we're in a sea of British uniforms lead by the man Magua wants dead. We need a plan."

"Say again?" Nathaniel stopped his search and looked at me. I recounted my tale to him which left him looking fairly disturbed. Fair. He was in chains let a lonely without weaponry.

Chingachgook didn't respond immediately. Instead he mulled over my words carefully. I looked at Uncas who was looking at the feet of the soldier ahead of him, his brows creased.

"Difficult."

We entered a clearing, where the grass grew long and the ground was uneven. Wagons and carts dipped this way and that as they trundled over mole hills and tiny sink holes. People stumbled. Horses stepped uneasily.

Around us, the woodland was thick. We couldn't see beyond the first blockade of trees. My own words came back to me; the natives know the lay of the land like the back of their hands. Unease seeped into my bones and rippled through the masses as a scream erupted from further up the line. It happened ahead. It happened once behind.

Uncas was edging towards the outskirts of the line to look down it.

"I can't see her..." He uttered under his breath.

Chingachgook was glancing around cautiously. Nathaniel was trying and failing to get his chains off.

"I need something," I said suddenly, "Now."

Then howls of What sounded like hysteria rose up into the air. It's chilling; the sound of the wilderness coming alive. The sound of war. The sound of angry people.

But nothing happened for many moments. Chingachgook shoved his tomahawk into my hands and turned from me.

Uncas was on the defensive but so, so calm. It was unbelievable. While we shook in our boots, he stood still. The pillar of strength. Calculating every move prior to execution.

I layed a hand on his arm but looked at Nathaniel. Even then I was weary of betraying Uncas and Alice.

"I'll get her."

Before anyone could say anything, I broke free of the masses and hurtled down the side towards the front of the line but I missed them. I must have. I was coming to an end before I realised so I turned on my heal and hurtled back but then the woods came alive and whoever was hiding in them came roaring out. The first shots that were fired were by the soldiers that had the nerve to act on instincts. The rest failed. Chaos broke out faster than I had anticipated.

Screams that were indecipherable started rising in higher pitches. People started scattering, singling themselves out.

I had made a mess of things though. I had separated myself which was stupid. I lost sight of everything as the order of things quickly fell apart.

I spotted Hayward trying to be a gallant general and thought that I might at least find the women. Alas.

I would have said fire at will but generals will be generals. So I abandoned everything. I made for the woods in hopes that once inside I could look out on everything and it would be clearer.

I made it unscathed and looked around frantically. It was a massacre. The wrong people were dropping like flies.

In my search, I spotted Magua bending over a fallen horse. I'd heard what he told Montcalm. My innards constricted at the thought of what was about to happen. When he rose, raising his arm above his head and covered in blood that dripped down his for arm in a ugly disarray of colours. A mix of blood, war paint and sweat.

I retched to no avail. There was nothing in my body for it to get rid of.

As for Munro; he was quite suddenly gone.

I eventually spotted Uncas, he too was looking around frantically. It was the most hysterical I've ever seen him. Still not uncontrollable but certainly very worried. Nathaniel bolted out of the dust and smoke behind him and was charging for something I couldn't see.

Uncas turned, saw this and proceeded to follow. He overtook Nathaniel quickly but he was blanching. I followed his line of fire and found Alice, the only time she was blending in with her surroundings.

The gunpowder and smoke about her person made her look like a ghost. She was standing dead still. Frightened beyond any sort of practical survival strategy. So frightened that she didn't see the man behind her. Even as he wrapped his arm around her neck and put the blade to her throat, she simply folded into it as if giving up.

Short lived it was and my panic subsided as Uncas came barrelling into the man with such force it was unintelligible. In his attack, Alice went down with them. She was seen scrambling away, screaming for somebody.

Uncas was lost to me for a while until he eventually emerged from the dust ferociously hacking at the body on the ground. Most unlike him. Angry. That calm I was in awe of, gone.

He turned to Alice and reached for her but in her stupor and fear she stumbled away from him, his fury. But Uncas had no time for delicacies and grabbed her arm anyway, hauling her away.

Assured of some measure of safety, I manoeuvred my gaze over the chaos in search of the others.

Chingachgook had already found Cora and Nathaniel. It wasn't long until the arrival of Uncas and Alice.

That was my chance. I tore out from the cover of trees towards them but my foot caught on something and I staggered to the ground next to a mangled Huron body. I lurched away in disgust upon my discovery.

I had scrambled to my feet in dismay and fright when I found myself looking into the murderous eyes of another warrior.

I screamed in my startle and backed away. He raised his tomahawk to strike me down. By this stage, I had given up. My death was so vivid. I had nothing to defend myself with.

But a great bang went up behind him and his face blew out in front of me. Blood splattered my own face. Shocked, I recoiled, trying and failing to wipe the blood off of me.

"Oi!"

I looked up; my saviour lay in the long grass behind a sunken bolder, waving me over urgently. My initial plan having failed, I found myself obliging gratefully, racing to him. There were two men beside me just then, wise enough to recognise a losing battle.

"Close one that, eh?" He smiled at me, a crooked and wild smile, somewhat misplaced with a large gash above his eye. His friend lay silent beside him, nodding at me only once. He was a little more focused, less mad looking.

"Thank you!" I breathed, trying to keep the shock at bay and breathing even. I spied Chingachgook and the others making for the river. Only he was turning this way and that, trying to find me. But they were on the other side of everything. I had nothing to get myself through to them safely except...

I glanced at my new companions.

"You're welcome," the soldier answered, "We need to get out of here. If we head back through the trees, we can –"

"No!" I had a plan, "No, my friends are heading to the river. If we get to them, they'll lead us to safety."

"What, more British? A lot of good we've done in this mess!" the soldier slated.

"They're Mohicans. They're natives – they know how the land works. Look, get me to them and they'll send you in the direction of safety," I looked the soldier in the eye, "They may not send you back to the army but –"

"Done!" He glanced at his friend, "We can't go back now. So let's go, be sure to take a musket a long the way!"

He leapt to his feet,

"Lead the way, Miss!"

I think I started running before I'd even managed to make it to my feet properly. Head down, knees bent, I charged at nothing through the heavy mist of gun powder and fire. The smell of death was in the air, the smell of charred skin and loosened muscle that allowed the body to empty itself out once dead.

I whipped up a musket and its gun powder as I went, shouldering it while the others fired blindly. Luckily we cleared the massacre unscathed save for sooty faces and dirt ridden clothing.

We skidded down onto the muddy banks to find that our passage to freedom was already on its way, paddling at quite a speed towards the rapids.

"What do you propose we do now?" The soldier asked me pointedly. I sensed his growing hysteria. That was his promised freedom that was propelling itself away.

I gazed after them desperately. No immediate plan to compensate.

"You might want to think quickly about that one..."

I turned in surprise, the silent of the two soldiers making himself heard only to show us that further up river, coming down, was Magua with four canoes manned by powerful men.

"Merde!"

I glanced back down river at my comrades. But what drew my attention was one lone canoe awaiting occupation about 300m from us.

"Là bas!" I pointed, already moving, "Allons!"

We ran for the canoe and had it out on the water pretty quickly, piling into it, kicking off the bank in the process so that our little rescue mission drifted carelessly out into the body of the river. Ahead it seemed to yawn and spread. Estuaries leaked into surrounding shrubbery. A million ways to pretend to escape. A million dead ends. The river, though helpful, could be deceptive.

"Pagaya –uh.." French soup, what did I tell you, "Paddle! Fast!"

They did as was bid. Magua and his men were already firing at Alice and Cora. Nobody was firing back. Not even Hayward who found himself with them again.

They were being gained on, the heavy strokes of the Huron with the advantage of more men and muscle, were streaking down the flow of the river. Urged on by a current that was strongest in the centre.

So I took up arms much to the dismay of the soldiers. We angled in towards the rapids, following the others.

"Don't stop paddling!"

I took aim and fired. I fired again and once more. The Huron warriors seemed unfazed though they did duck and cover every once in a while. The water beside their canoes sometimes exploded, evidence of my errors.

I heard the Mohicans begin to call out to each other. My two soldiers were screaming at me. War cries were coming from the Huron. It became a muddle of sounds to a point I could no longer decipher what exactly was going on.

The boat rocked a little which almost made me lose my balance. I whipped around to see who it was the caused the disturbance but to my amazement, it was Uncas.

He wiped his hair from his face and took up the spare paddle we had to continue paddling. Our speed picked up notably. I concluded that upon the word of Chingachgook, the Mohicans had slowed down the smallest amount to allow Uncas to jump ship once we were close enough.

The soldiers went silent, focusing entirely on the task at hand. Uncas leading the way with his steady strokes, guiding the canoe correctly so that we didn't drift in alternative directions.

I continued my assault on the approaching Huron. I got a few but I don't think I killed anyone. A blessing or a curse, I don't know. My conscience appeared to have taken second place on the list of priorities.

However, Chingachgook and the other having slowed down did have its consequences. We were in a more practical position to be attacked more accurately. Shots from them hit the side of our canoe and we sprung a leak.

Another shot broke the water between Hayward's and Chingachgook's canoe. It exploded in a sharp spray.

Another hit our canoe again.

I cursed loudly.

Another one hit Chingachgook's canoe, too close, I'd say, to Alice who let out a shrill cry of fright and that was Uncas' undoing. He didn't even think, he just leaped over the edge into the water and popped up moments later next Alice's side of the canoe.

"Uncas!" I cried upon realising, shocked to say the least, "Uncas! Why did you –"

But Chingachgook was slating him already but no one dared to stop again. However, my companions and I were losing speed. Again.

"Bloody Indian abandoned us!" my mad soldier was saying in distress, "We're going to die!"

"Just keep paddling!" I hollered back at him but then I ran out of gunpowder and from there everything went wrong. I mean everything.

We were drifting again, ahead Alice was attempting to aid Uncas, trying to heave him back over the side into moderate safety. But we, the two soldiers and myself, were drifting.

Uncas spared us a few glances but no more having anchored himself behind Alice once more.

We were not meant for canoeing it seemed. A Huron fired and the more silent of the two soldiers grunted and slumped over the side of the boat, dangerously close to falling in.

"NO!" cried the madman behind me, "Benjamin!"

I tried to stop the dead man from falling out but we hit something and he fell out anyway.

This threw the remaining man into a hysteria I couldn't tame nor fathom. He reached out, dropping the paddle, grappling for some part of his compatriot as his body slowly drifted away from us to battle the undercurrent of the river.

Distraught and devastatingly haunting, he continued to call leaning further and further out to a doomed fate.

"Please!" I was saying, now having to dismally navigate the canoe on my own, "Keep paddling! You'll fall in! The rapids!" which were fast approaching. It was hell _and_ high water.

But fate dealt a cruel hand and he did indeed stretch too far. He howled in agony, his hand going to the aid of his neck. We entered the rapids side on, the canoe rocked to and from and unable to stem his bleeding and stay balanced, the remaining soldier went in and the river rapids consumed him.

With naught else to do and in full view of Magua who was heading the band of Huron warriors, waiting for a clear shot, I jumped. I heard musket fire mere moments after I took flight. In the moments following this, I didn't know whether he'd hit me or not.

I delved deep into the river depths, the roar of the rapids deafening below the surface. I was jabbed and grinded by and over everything imaginable. I must have hit every rock in the river.

I burst up above the surface, gulping in air only to have fear rack my core as breathless as I was. I swept past the other canoes. Chingachgook waded into the water after me, I saw, calling after me. Uncas was behind him...

I don't know what he was doing. If I might be so bold, I hope he was feeling as wretched and guilty as he deserved.

But hope was gone for me as I approached the falls. Preparing myself, I curled up tight.

 _I knew you wouldn't hang me, life!_

* * *

 **Review. Doo eeet!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N realised I made a pretty serious blunder so just a quick edit. Hopefully nobody got it. I all but gave away the ending.**

* * *

I dragged Benjamin's body out of the water, bones aching, skin wrinkled from cold, snivelling as water dripped from out my nose. In between some unholy land of twisted calm and losing my head.

I layed him upon the river banks with his feet still in the water for I'd lost heart and strength.

I waited for the harsh sounds of a warring people to find me but they never did, even after so many moments of waiting.

At this stage, as I lay myself down amongst the rock, debris and sand of the river bank, the thundering falls calling out to the wilderness relentlessly, I was livid. I knew this because I was calmer than I thought I should be.

I was lying next to a dead man and for multiple reasons, none of which made sense, I blamed Uncas. Alice didn't need protecting day in and day out. She was merely a typical woman – a tendency to startle easily but myself as a witness, she'd be more than capable of surviving alone. For the most part.

But Uncas was unwilling to see this and thus he had myself and the two soldiers pay the price.

However this feeling waned and was followed by a harrowing emptiness which was further replaced by a feeling I'd never even thought to think about; a deep longing for the comfort of my mother. There had never been enough time to discover how hollow that feeling was. The want of something you can no longer grasp. The want of that steadfast presence. One's mother is their entire world. That was gone now. The world had dropped from beneath my feet.

"Traveller!"

I didn't look up but Chingachgook's face appeared above mine all the same, like a vision, distorted by the evening hue and numbness.

"I thought you dead!" I could hear the relief in his voice but anxiety falsified it, denied him the moment of happiness that normally accompanied it, "Come now, we have to go."

He hoisted me up and squared my shoulders so that I looked at him. He saw something, perhaps my crack in my armour but he didn't address it. Instead he shied away from it with suspicion in his eyes before taking hold of my hand and racing over the rocks with me in tow. All the while muttering things under his breath, looking back at me with relief. I, however, would have slumped were he to let go.

The cave was damp and uncomfortable but the twilight of the evening leant itself to a mesmerising glassy sheath that was the supposed back of the waterfall, if you would. Places like these belonged in dreams but here we were in a nightmare.

Once in, I collapsed in the middle of the cave – everyone made a brief fuss of me but only until they realised I wasn't responding particularly well, then they left me alone. Hayward settled with his back to the wall, head between his knees and attempted to sleep. Cora and Nathaniel spoke in small tones, side by side, silhouetted by the silvery water.

Alice, however, sat in a daze where she floated high above any normal human emotion. Not devoid of it but rather overwhelmed by it. The opposite of me.

"Marie?"

I turned my attention to the deep voice that filtered in from the nowhere lands, calling my name and met a gaze that maintained its stoicism but let the guilt show.

But I was not about to let him finish.

"Don't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't."

Uncas just looked at me with unfaltering determination. He was going to force me to hear him out but were he to do so, I'm pretty sure I might have let loose all my rage.

Chingachgook came to my aid in the nick of time, shoeing him away, saying something sternly to him in their mother tongue.

Uncas slunk away, leaving his musket beside Alice and making for the entrance of the cave where I imagined him to settle in the shadows.

Chingachgook replaced Uncas, scrutinising me before seating himself beside my person with a grunt. He gave me a sympathetic nudge with a tired smile.

"Don't blame him forever."

I didn't respond immediately which lead to the Mohican's thick, sturdy arm being wrapped around my shoulders.

"What are we going to do?" I asked eventually, aware of our sodden situation all inclusive of wet gun powder and muskets.

"I don't know..." He answered gently, gazing absently into the shadows. I slumped,

"It can't get any worse can it...?" I glanced towards the entrance where Uncas had gone, "It really... _really_ can't."

Chingachgook caught my distasteful look and ran his hand over my face as if to wipe it clean. I jerked back, perplexed, blinking at him for answers,

"Oh dear, Traveller. It has been difficult. I know this. But I think it is important to make room for a love that dares to blossom in ashes. Even," He sighed heavily, letting go of something that drifted off into the water, letting his hand drop back onto my shoulder, "If it was not what I had hoped for."

I looked at him, sure to convey my surprise. I was met by a knowing ghost of a smile that looked heavy on his face. The melancholy I had experienced when I first discovered the very real feelings Uncas and Alice had for each other, was now on Chingachgook's face. I looked at it a long while, recalling my same reaction,

"How long have you known?"

"A father knows his son better than his friends. You all think I don't see, that my eyes are drawn only to the Spirits and their Council Fire. No..." He tapped his temple, "No. I've known it since before you."

He took note of my confusion. He was courteous enough to agree to entertain my curiosity.

"My blood son, he doesn't waver easily from his path. He puts his mind to something and he does it, just so. Ever since young Miss Munro came into his life, his soul has been disturbed. He is never still. Always," He gestured to his eyes and emphasised a man looking around him frantically, "Looking for something. He meant to tell me things but he can never quite say it...I have never known him to be so. Once when he was a boy he was the same until at last he confessed his desire to marry a young woman he had met in one of the camps we stayed in. I looked at him and all I saw was lust. I told him 'no'. But I believe he took what he wanted anyway..."

Chingachgook shrugged and chuckled to himself,

"But his desire changed with the wind and when we blew away, so did it. But now, when he looks at me to tell me whatever he means to tell me, his eyes are steady. Like a beating drum.* My son, if he asks me now, my answer would be different to the one I gave him then. I can't stand in the way of them now. War is a tough time to tackle but here they are. What can I do but wait for him to tell me? And," He glanced at Alice with a small smile, "I could have been graced with worse..."

"I didn't think you'd approve. _We_ didn't think you'd approve. We didn't think anyone would have," I mused.

"I didn't. I can't talk for the Yengeese soldier or the girl's sister but my white son will come around. As for me, I've seen things that have made me change my mind. In the end, Uncas' life is not mine but his own. I don't believe Alice is a mistake…hmm..Not anymore."

I nodded,

"She's strong."

"Stronger than she thinks, I know this too. I know it as sure as I know that you won't stay."

I froze, stiffening in his embrace but Chingachgook didn't seem to notice.

"You might come back, you might not. This, I _don't_ know. So, go. Make your peace. I will have a plan by the time you return. My children must rest as best they can now however brief it might be."

I managed to heave myself up and blink down at my elder, the rawness of my core seeming to fade. Chingachgook's words shone a light upon me,

"All my children," He added, "The old and the new,"

I turned to leave but was halted,

"One more thing, there is something else that has his soul twisted in the storm. If you can find out what it might be. This, he won't tell me," he added sadly. It wrenched at my heart strings. We were all suffering in one way or another. Chingachgook suffered as much if not more than us. We were children.

I nodded. How wrapped up in my own circumstance must I have been to completely underestimate Chingachgook and his knowledge of youth. I was and am nothing special.

I waded towards the entrance, brushing past Alice as I went; so, so far away. We had been told not to tell her of her father's death. But she knew.

I found Uncas leaning against the rocks, his eyes trained on small opening through which we had come. He didn't look at me,

"I'm sorry," He said again. He meant it, 'this I know'.

"So am I, I guess," I shrugged, coming no closer than I needed to, "I don't blame you, you know? I did...but your father's got a way of changing things around."

Uncas snorted softly, flashing me a smile,

"Every time I've ever said 'I hate' he says, 'Learn'," Uncas bobbed his head, "'Learn, Uncas, then you will understand and perhaps you will love.' Every time I challenged it, every time he was right."

"He knows, you know," I said softly, staying still, seeing him go rigid as I changed the course of our conversation – I was never a subtle person, "He's alright. He knew before I did, I was surprised."

"We shouldn't have been," He let out a sigh, with it went a piece of an all too heavy load, "I'm relieved!"

"Ah!" I waved away our stupidity, "There goes one problem-"

"Shsh," He silenced me with a finger to his lips, listening. Moments passed, then...

Nothing.

"Carry on," He urged me, giving me no explanation.

I blinked at him but continued not. Instead I studied him; his broad shoulders and lean frame. I had a brief envy of Alice. Uncas was quite the specimen.

He wasn't muscular. Not the typical type of man that women typically fell for – a man with a barrelling chest and arms of steel. They lacked Grace. An agility which Uncas made up for even as he leant against the wall.

Graceful but...

He slipped slightly as he shouldered the wall and knocked his head. He cursed it and leaned away from it irritably. It wasn't necessarily noticeable, only because I was watching did it come to life.

…but youthful.

"I won't survive this."

I stumbled in my thoughts. Gaping at his sudden, very morbid revelation. But as dramatic as it might have been, it sounded genuine.

When he glanced back I saw that fleeting expression. I didn't respond.

"My decisions haven't been..." He looked awkward, struggling for words that evidently didn't come naturally.

"Stupid?"

It wasn't a fair option but Uncas' stupidity on the river still stung. Forgive and forget don't go in the same sentence, no matter what they say.

He shut his eyes briefly, but answered amiably,

"Yes."

I covered my tracks quickly,

"Don't talk like that. You're the surest of foot out of us all."

"I don't think so."

I didn't know what to say or do. His revelation came from a deep, dark place but he gave no reason. I had to think. To pry it from his core.

"What makes you think like this?"

"I haven't _been_ sure. I've acted on impulse rather than instinct."

"That's what people do during these times..."

He turned on me abruptly,

"I left you die in that river because, suddenly, she was the most important thing in the world. More than you. More than my father," his words fell out aggressively as he chastised himself but once out, he regained his calm, "That is not the way."

"Yes but we're past that now," we weren't, I agreed with him whole heartedly, he was an idiot but I daren't pour salt on the wound, "Besides, she would have done the same."

"I hope not."

"Uncas? What's in your head?" My impatience began to mount. It was impossible to get him or his father to speak their feelings with clarity. At least Alice looked a certain way when addressing certain things that made it easy to discern what exactly was happening inside.

"One stupid decision after another," he rubbed the ridge of his nose, "I'm going to die. I can feel it. I've dreamed it. After all of this, only my death awaits me."

I gaped at him, stunned into a stupor. It was not the answer I was expecting.

"Dreams...don't tell the future..." I stammered out with a lack of any better comfort.

His head drooped and his shoulders sagged. Too young, he was, to be looking like his father,

"Even when they are in your bones?"

This was not something I could take on. Not then. My soul still ached from the river, I was still able to get upset. Uncas' foreboding dreams were too much. I left him. Scared.

I hurried into the body of the cave, back to the others.

"Alice?" I dropped down beside her, Uncas' words dancing around my head.

She looked at me wistfully and without focus,

"mmmm?"

"You need pull yourself together. Uncas..." I tried to find the words, aware that it wasn't fair of me to ask Alice to get her head on straight just then but this was an emergency. Even so, words weren't easy to come by to explain it. What could be fitting for someone who was silently falling apart stitch by stitch at the seams? "...needs you."

She looked at me, her eyes clearing into the quizzical blue that was the norm. That strength Chingachgook and I spoke about, cascading in from all corners of her being,

"Alright," she stood up, casting a weary glance over at our Chief, who didn't notice. I don't think. She looked uncertain, worried, fearful of what she was walking into. I could sympathise, life isn't worth the effort when one has to walk out of their own pain into someone else'.

"Alright," she said again, reassuring herself, "What must I do?"

I just looked at her,

"I have a feeling you'll have a clearer idea about what to do than I. Alice?"

She stalled, looking back at me. She looked like a child, frightened senseless. Numbed. Whatever words I had were lost to me. Realising this, she continued on her way.

A few moments later, as I sat wondering about our precarious situation and Uncas and Alice's obscure place and importance in it, Chingachgook sat beside me once more,

"Where's the girl?"

"Which one?"

"Alice..." He hmm'd to himself, "She will need another name if she is to live with our people..."

"Why's that?"

"As her new father, I think it is better."

"Alright."

"Where is she?"

I shrugged and flinched when he stood up to go and seek her out but then he stopped. He thought a moment then sat back down,

"Perhaps not."

"Perhaps not," I concurred.

He raised his head up with his eyes closed,

"Spirits, do not bless me with a grandchild just yet."

I gazed incredulously at him,

"You don't think...Surely!"

"Woman, I know what times of death and decay do to living things," He fired back. He sounded so much like...a grandfather with his tone of voice and stern manner.

"Yes but she's...Alice…" for lack of a better word.

"And that changes anything?"

"Well yes because –" I broke off, Uncas' confession coming back to me.

"Because...?" He searched my face for answers, "He has told you his troubles. What are they?"

"He..." I rubbed my face, trying to clear my thoughts, "He believes he'll die for Alice whether he like it or not, it sounds like. He says he's dreamed it."

Chingachgook nodded solemnly then put his head between his knees,

"Death and decay. First times and fear wont serve as a barrier. Oh…my son. Hawkeye is adamant on life, Uncas is sure of death. Who is wiser? Who is stronger?" He looked at his white son, taking in the very different demeanour of Nathaniel; charismatic and loudly determined.

"I'm old now. I still can't decide," He let slip a bitter chuckle but Uncas' fear was in his father's bones as it was in mine, as it was in his own.

"What are we going to do?" I asked again. Chingachgook returned his gaze to me.

"We jump."

Just then, Uncas, tugging Alice along with him, came into view. All the answers on his face without saying anything. We were mere moments away from being discovered.

Alice's braid had not been removed this time. A powerful gesture, I thought.

Chingachgook got to his feet abruptly, calling out to Nathaniel and announcing to all,

"The time is now."

Nathaniel was ready. From the wall came Hayward, dishevelled and groggy.

"What are we to do? We have no fire arms, no knives...we have nothing," He said ardently, keeping his shoulders straight but he was frightened.

"We jump," Chingachgook answered much to Hayward's dismay,

"You're insane, old man, we can't possibly survive the fall!"

"Someone did. Besides, better that than capture, Sir," Nathaniel squared up to the soldier coolly, "But you can stay if you want. Find out."

"But the women-" Hayward pressed, ignoring Nathaniel but Chingachgook silenced,

"They stay."

"By God, man, you _are_ mad!"

"The Huron war Chief won't want them dead here. He'll take them back to the Lenape camp," Uncas cut in, "Their fate will ultimately be decided by their chief. The journey there will buy us time to reach them."

Hayward looked around at a loss, his breathing heavy,

"Then I shall stay with them,"

"Not a lot of good that'll do, Sir," Nathaniel retorted.

"It is my duty," Hayward straightened again, holding true to himself admirably.

"Decided," Chingachgook affirmed before Nathaniel could have the last word, "Time to go, my Children."

At that, Nathaniel hastily dragged Cora away to confess one thing or another. It broke my heart to see that Alice and Uncas made no notion of goodbye. Not even a word of good luck and they stood an arms length apart.

Chingachgook waited for Uncas to take a running leap, his form disappearing into the curtain of water, then gone. Nathaniel and Cora gazed longingly at each other before he, too, soared passed her into the falls.

Chingachgook shook Hayward's hand and placed another upon the soldier's shoulder,

"You are good man," Then he turned to the Munro daughters, "Come here."

They gathered to him hesitantly, Cora more awkward than Alice ironically enough,

"Stay strong. By the grace of the Spirits, we will meet again soon, I am proud to have you as my family," He looked straight at Alice who went a deep crimson and tried to step away but was held steady by the Great Chief, "I don't know why I have not been told but keep your strength. You have more of it than you know."

Leaving Alice wide-eyed and fearful, Cora gaping at her, Chingachgook turned to me.

"Any last words for me?" I asked humourlessly. He shook his head,

"If you are to make it to Illinois, you jump with me," He grabbed my hand suddenly and pulled me to the water's edge, "Ready?"

"What? Never," I protested, staring into the living thunder.

I dared a glance back at the Munro's and Hayward's tragic circumstance but couldn't say anything for I was lurched forward abruptly and then we were falling.

Back in the same water I dragged myself out of earlier the same day, I half expected to be pulled out upon the same bank too, alongside a familiar dead and bloated body. But, as it were, Chingachgook held relentlessly onto my hand and we jolted to a halt amidst the rolling river, just short of the rocks and still water that would have us drift off towards the sea.

Uncas was holding out a musket to which Chingachgook clutched. Nathaniel was holding onto Uncas to ensure he didn't fall in when he caught us.

We were each hauled out of the water, breathless, leaning against each other in our exhaustion. A brief pause in a fairly eventful day. I say 'fairly'

lightly.

I stood up slowly and looked up at the waterfall a few 200 yards away. It was beautiful. Just as beautiful then as it was a month before hand.

Funny to realise that whatever happens to you or I in whatever land, no mater how joyful or devastating, the beauty of your surroundings don't change. Life out in the wilderness doesn't care about us.

If we die, we'll get swallowed up in the dirt. Things will eat us. We'll disappear.

"I didn't let go this time," Uncas said softly to me as I stared dreamily, into the water.

I glanced at him, granting him a small smile.

Then Nathaniel stood abruptly,

"Let's go." And he started marching on without us but Uncas didn't move, neither did Chingachgook as he held out his hand to his blood son,

"Wait, Hawkeye," He grunted as he was helped to his feet, "Be patient. There is something that must be addressed first."

"There's no time," the man countered, "We must go now if we're to catch them!"

Chingachgook didn't let go of Uncas' hand all the while. The young man was casting glances up at the falls continually, bringing Chingachgook's words regarding Uncas' state of being to life.

"There is still time. Be calm. Marie, I believe this is where we part ways, Traveller."

Everyone looked stunned. I wilted under their scrutiny, discomfort prickling up my spine.

"You're leaving..." Nathaniel said bluntly. It sounded harsh and hostile, his expression was not impressed.

"We've dragged her to hell and back," Chingachgook came to my defence, "If she doesn't go now, she'll never reach Illinois. Have I not told you, my sons, time and time again? Where the heart is, there you must go. No one must get in the way of that."

He turned to me with a sad smile and added softly,

"Not even friends. Not even family. You have been good to us. You may go."

What could I say?

Nathaniel marched forward and for a moment I thought I was going to be berated. Instead, he gave me a one armed embrace,

"Travel safe."

"Thank you..." I stammered.

Uncas said nothing. He just looked at me with an expressionless face. After a while he nodded as if finally giving me his consent,

"Don't get lost," he nodded for emphasis, "I'll see you when I see you again."

Chingachgook then pointed me in the right direction,

"Don't waver, traveller. Perhaps we _will_ meet again…but on a different road."

"Chingachgook," I looked him in the eye, looking for some form of hurt but I could only find understanding. What had we done to disserve him?

"I'm sorry," was all I managed. I wanted to explain how this was best for me. That I needed to go. That I was not running from them. That I felt that if I went charging off to find the women, I'd never return. That I was the third choice of any situation and that, despite that not having been a problem, it would be and this plan of theirs, it would be the death of me. Uncas felt in it in his bones. I felt it in mine.

But the words wouldn't come out.

I watched them disappear into the forest like shadows then, like memories, faded.

I sat back down and looked down my road. It was easier but no less dangerous. I sat for what felt like hours. Moments stretched on and on until I forced myself to take a step towards Illinois. Then stopped, sighing heavily.

My bones be damned.

I was never going to take more steps than the one. I turned back and knelt down to spy the way back to them.

I felt a small tug of a smile. Why? Because for the first time, their tracks were as clear as day. Finding them would be easy.

* * *

 **A/N So there's the proverbial big reveal. We're on the last leg of the story, team. Thanks for the continuing support. It means a lot.  
Chingachook's quite the guy, aint he? **

**My sort of person.** **Bless!**

 ***I drew inspiration from Pocahantas. :)**

 **A review, as per, is always welcome. In fact, leave 5! Cheers ma dears.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Final hurdle. This is the penultimate chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

I jogged steadily through the forest. I have to admit, I had to stop and catch my breath on occasion. My lungs burned and I was hungry. How the Mohicans kept going, is beyond me.

Still, I kept going. Powering on with a fast walk when I couldn't run anymore.

Before long, I saw smoke tendrils spiralling into the sky and heard woops of war. I slowed my pace and approached the camp with my head low. I lost the trail, inevitably, and had to find my own way around.

I found my place behind a bush and peered through the leaves. I couldn't see Chingachgook or the others, but in the centre of the camp, standing before the village chief, stood Magua. He held ropes like leads that were attached to the necks of Alice and Cora. They'd been lead along like dogs, their hands tied tightly. I could see, even from where I was, the raw flesh where the rope chafed against the skin on their wrists.

I bit my lip anxiously and watched the events unfold. All the while, trying to decide what exactly it was that I planned on doing.

The French dialect Magua and the Chief used was tough to understand from a distance but from what I _could_ get was Magua's anger being addressed. The Chief seemed to recognise that it fell just short of psychotic, his lust for revenge.

But there were always two sides and Magua argued admirably. He constantly referred to the audience's lack of knowledge surrounding loss.

It was agreeable; Magua was a haunting figure. A man broken down and pulled from his humble perch only to rise again from the ashes as something monstrous. He was a cold killer with a heart that was forced to stone.

Still, we knew Magua's story. Magua did not know ours. The Lenape Chief was a wise man and called Magua out.

It didn't sit well with the Huron. Cora and Alice were constantly referred too. Hayward, I finally noticed, was in tattered rags – beaten and whipped, his body looked like a newly put together thing yet to be cleaned up.

An agreement was reached – Alice was to be taken for Magua's wife which scared the hell out of me. Cora was to be burned as tribute to vengeance and renewal.

Hayward was not mentioned.

I began to panic; common sense, I could feel it seeping out of me.

But a commotion from the other side of the camp caused a stir and the proceedings stalled.

Nathaniel walked out, defenceless, into the open straight towards the Chief. He was whipped with tightly bound rope and dried leaves. He was thrown to the ground and kicked. He was cut open across his breast. A gaping wound that would need stitches.

Still, he kept on. I admired him. His appearance changed everything. Hayward gained courage and spoke gallantly when Nathaniel asked him to translate; proclaiming himself as more valuable an asset. To burn him in place of Cora.

My heart shattered when Hayward mistranslated.

"Take me, the British soldier, an air to Colonel Munro, to burn. I can die for not only Munro's daughters but on behalf of the British who have done you wrong. Take me!"

It was the bravest thing he ever did for as long as I had known him. Love; makes you stupid, Makes you brave. Can't win.

The Chief relented with a satisfied nod.

"Magua, let the dark haired girl go. Take the youngest Munro daughter as a wife so that Magua's heart is healed. Let the warrior die for his land so that Magua's want for a revenge is satisfied."

Magua was displeased but the Chief had spoken, he could do no more.

Cora was forcefully shoved into her hero's arms while Duncan was lead away shouting out his last words.

A conundrum. I had to do something but I had nothing to do it with.

Alice, however, was in the same situation in which she started. She was lead away from the commotion – lead away...pulled away. Tugged along with a hand clamped about her arm in a death grip. They didn't give her much time to take each step. She stumbled over her dress but couldn't fall.

I sat back down, biting my knuckles. Moments later, Hayward's screams split the air. Hoarse and twisted cries of agony that sunk into my nerves so much that I wanted to curl up and die. Or get to Illinois. Both were preferable – both not an option. Not yet.

A shot rang out which made me jump and Hayward's piercing screams stop. I peered over the top of my bush to see the last moments of Hayward as he stilled as if shocked, his head then wilted lazily and he moved no more. The blaze crackled on without protest.

I followed the smoke to its origins and found the source just in time to see Chingachgook's retreating moccasins. Uncas was gone.

As was predicted, Uncas had made a rather brash decision. I was not aware of this but apparently he laid a hand on his father's shoulder, then took off up the mountain through the forestry. He all but scaled the slopes as he went to the rescue.

Now, I'm not sure what you would have done, dear reader, but as far as I could tell, roaring up the hard side of the mountain was not his best laid plan - if you could call it a plan at all.

Either way, my time had come. I broke out of the bushes and cut through the camp to follow Magua and his band of warriors. I turned back to look for the others, to see whether they were following.

But they all decided to follow Uncas and I just don't...

Why?! Why did you do this?!

It was foolish and impractical. Aren't all war strategies based on surprise? Yet they tire themselves out then attack from the front. By then Uncas would have made good headway but Chingachgook and Nathaniel would then be expected.

My best thoughts now, as I lie here are these; Uncas' blind love, Nathaniel's blind rage, Chingachgook's fatherly fear and what could Cora do but follow?

Anyway, I turned on my heel and raced up the path. Then I had to delay myself and come back when I realised I still had no weapon. Looking back and rereading my story, it would seem I did this a lot. I was an idiot.

I took a nearby spear that lay abandoned near a spit then returned to my mission. I didn't go unnoticed, but no one cared.

I sprinted up the path barely travelled by and came to a fork. I had to make a blind decision as to which way they went. You can't see footprints on a rock.

I turned left and only got so far before determining that I'd gone the wrong way. I doubled back and ran along the edge of the cliff. I didn't see it then but I can see it in my memory now. The view of the country from above was like standing atop the world. New York was untamed and untouched. It brings back the familiar feeling that the wilderness doesn't care who you are or what you do.

I saw them. A long thin line of mohawks sticking up, lolling from one side to the other in unison with the body that carried it. Soon the bodies came into view as it came clear that the procession had stopped, overseeing a commotion ahead.

As I drew nearer, I realised what was happening. Magua and Uncas were locked in combat.

Uncas was tired, lacked the seasoned skill, impatient, injured – it seemed, and was losing. Magua was the exact opposite. He didn't fight like a killer. He didn't even fight like a predator. He fought like a man who learned how to wait out the opponent. Like a man who took the time to figure out how the other fought and therefore predicted the outcome.

It would have been riveting were the players not such a vital key to the happiness of everyone. Instead I was terrified.

Uncas was getting up off of the ground for one last try. Magua waited for him to do so. _That_ was predatory. A cruel game to play.

Uncas tried to strike, his right arm useless at his side, blood streaming down from God knew where. The attack was halted and instead, Uncas screamed as Magua plunged his knife into the Mohican's side. He turned him round so that Uncas then looked out over New York – there was a moment where he seemed temporarily awed by what was before him, as if seeing it for the first time.

Magua, tilted his head up and positioned the knife tip at his jugular.

For a moment I didn't know what I was doing or what I'd thrown but apparently I'd thrown something and froze; scared utterly witless.

I missed Magua, much to my embarrassment, and hit Uncas instead. He lost balance and blanched left. Magua, as result, stabbed at nothing. He looked shocked.

I think everyone was. I found my feet then and surged forward, flying past the line of Huron onlookers. Pushing some out of the way. Pushing some to their deaths.

I stabbed at Magua with the spear I had but the man was too fast. He stepped out of the way and I soared clumsily into Uncas, narrowly avoiding piercing him. I knocked us both to the ground.

"Marie?" I heard him ask, bewildered.

The Huron's dispatched two men to assist Magua but Magua stopped their advance.

"I will have them both," He hissed at us as we stared up at him from the ground. This man, I tell you.

My head was screaming for Chingachgook, willing them to arrive sooner.

I got up before Uncas and held my spear at the ready. Uncas staggered to his feet, clutching his side and glared at Magua. The war chief bent his knees and seemed to bob from toe to toe, his eyes focused, gauging who was a bigger threat.

I lunged but he ducked my attack and flicked me aside like a fly. It took all my strength to stop myself from stumbling into oblivion.

He surged past me at Uncas. I heard Uncas grunt but it wasn't he who landed up on the ground. When I turned to see, Uncas was coming out of a ball shape as if he had curled himself into something Magua had merely bounced off of. He then threw himself at the downed Huron chief, his tomahawk slicing through the air but Magua shifted and it fell just short of the Huron's head.

Uncas was then kneed in his wound and he cried out in agony. I then slid the spear along the ground into Magua's ribs. He put his arm down and I got him in the indent of his upper arm where the muscle appeared to cave in on itself.

He barely made a sound. All the agony was thrown into a single contorted expression which he shook off in an instant as he threw Uncas off of him.

The young chief rolled away, holding his side and leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Magua, quicker than lightening, grabbed a hold of my spear and yanked it out of my grasp. He tried to hit me with it multiple times, trying to keep me away but he managed only once. He struck me across my back.

I could feel my muscles, nerves and skin contract as the pain shot through me. A heavy red welt forming across my spine, blood seeping into my clothes from the splinters.

It was enough to hinder any ideas of interruption I may or may not have had.

I thought he was going to kill me but he left me to suffer, saying something harshly to his compatriots as he went for Uncas. He picked up his knife as he went.

I heard a cry from not too far off and at a glance I saw it to be our family.

With courage anew and hope renewed, I leapt up to counter Magua as he dragged Uncas to the cliff's edge, the knife at the younger man's throat, adamant to have him die looking at the land he'd never walk again, his woman looking on in desperate hopelessness and despair.

It would not do.

I leapt up but found myself looking at an entirely different face. A younger face. A stranger's face. A face that caused me a pain I've never known.

All my air left me. I felt like I was deflating. The pain was worse in my chest but I felt the knife slide out from between my ribs and heard the wound bubble and pop. My body heaved, my lungs contracted and out my mouth came my blood. Understanding was lost to me – I didn't know where the wound was or what had actually been done to me for the pain and wound were in different places.

I fell to my knees in shock. I could breath but I couldn't get enough.

I was rendered helpless. Suddenly defeated by a nobody. Uncas was looking at me instead of his surroundings.

We were going to die together. Like this. In this horrible way. I heard the cries of an anguished father but as close as they were, they'd never make it. Oh...

The mountain, the mountain.

Then Alice happened.

I heard her screech some kind of devil word. She wrenched herself free of the hand that held her and she rushed forward. Magua turned just in time to see her pick up Uncas' abandoned musket.

Having already witnessed his speed and ferocity, it was beyond me how slow he suddenly was.

Alice, in all her fury for a woman so small, swung violently at the Huron chief. The musket head slammed into the side of Magua's skull and he spun away from Uncas, dropping the knife, leaving Uncas with only a scratch.

Uncas stood stock still, staring at nothing. On the dangerous verge of life and the abyss depending on which way he fell.

Alice, without looking at him, yanked him away from the cliff edge by his collar. He took one step back then fell to the ground unconscious.

The enraged young woman seemed to come to her senses having lost her bearings at the thought of Uncas' death. She glared at the Huron chief, terrified of herself – the young girl trying to break through the armour of the scorned woman standing before us.

She terrified us all and yet...

Magua had taken a hefty hit but I could see he was perfectly able to make a move to overpower her but I don't think he wanted to.

While others hesitated out of fear, including my killer, Magua hesitated because he was riveted. Utterly intoxicated by her vengeful beauty.

I believe that in that moment, Alice Munro was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Then Chingachgook arrived, Nathaniel not far behind. A few Huron's fought back but they didn't last long thanks be to him. The stranger in front of me was one of those.

Chingachgook dealt with Magua, though; he was so angry. Angrier than Magua had ever been.

Perhaps not.

Perhaps yes. When is one most angry? Before or after the murder of their children?

Magua didn't stop looking at Alice, even as Chingachgook made for another vicious blow to his head.

Magua started to topple backwards in a state of near unconsciousness. Strange; Alice must have seen what Montcalm kept seeing for she reached for him in the moment of his death.

She didn't move her feet but her hand tried to go without her. Alas.

Magua disappeared over the edge of the cliff and no one sought to see him fall.

After that, my blood left too much of me behind and I went blank.

888888

I woke up at a Delaware camp with a fever as high as the sky. I floated between world's where illusions and dreams were the same thing. When it broke, I thought I'd made it through the worst but the blurred face above me looked grave. My breathing was still haggard and I tried to speak but it came out like a gurgle. I was in trouble.

"Your lung," a woman's voice said in broken English, "Big wound. No air."

Then she added in French,

"Vous mourir."

Chingachgook had told me it wasn't uncommon for varying tribes to have learned either English or French as a means to communicate. They were smarter than the white settlers. "Speak a man's mother tongue to him, and he will put more effort into understanding." Obviously Chingachgook had told this woman that I was the latter which worked for her benefit more than mine.

"Je suis dèsolè. Vous mourir." She looked down at me sadly and it was from then I began to see death in my dreams. Only a shadow; silent and ominous but kind. I'm never afraid.

I regained consciousness after a while and my wound began to heal. Things were looking up.

Alice never left Uncas' side throughout his ordeal. They tell me he was a knock away from death opening the door. The council fire had been lit, awaiting his arrival but he never came. As time wore on, they say, he screamed for Alice time and again and wouldn't stop until she assured him she was there. I don't think he remembers. No one has brought it up.

His wounds are on the mend, he walks now albeit lopsided, his arm in a sling. He can't run. He tried once and collapsed instantly. His stitches tore open and fresh blood poured from out the patchwork so he was forbidden to move. He disobeyed so Alice forbid him to run. He agreed and so walked vigorously to and from. He longed to be free.

It was easy to see. Now that the immediate threat had been alleviated and I had been moved and propped outside of the wigwam, Uncas wanted nothing more than to be able to be a child again. The young men played with balls and spears and Uncas could only watch.

Alice stood out in the camp. A lilly in a field of daisies. But that only lasted so long. Before too much time passed, she was wearing the dresses the Delaware girls made for her. She was taught how to do this and that and she enjoyed it. Chingachgook looked upon her easily.

"Definitely not a mistake," he'd say affectionately then sit quietly beside me while my breathing took up the silence.

One afternoon, Uncas surprised us all. Looking particularly elegant in traditional Mohican garb like his father. Bare chested save an intricately woven blanket draped across his shoulders. He was barefoot with his legs covered by the usual buckskin leggings. It accentuated, once again, his very un-manly physique but very manly beauty. He was skinny but his saunter across the camp, straight backed and confident gave him a quality many men lacked; grace. Chingachgook was the same.

Uncas _looked_ free even if his ability to run, jump and climb trees was hindered. His hair was loose and fell gracefully over his shoulders while wisps of fine black strands strayed across his face in the wind. Alice watched him approach, her mouth agape and you could just see how the young chief revelled in it again, the attention. All of it for the girls Alice was with were certainly staring.

His bandages were still in place but the blood stains grew scarcer. He strolled elegantly across the camp and through the circle of women – Chingachgook made an unimpressed grumble and muttered something about pride and arrogance. He stopped in front of Alice and looked down with a grin. Alice lost her gaping expression and looked just as unimpressed with Uncas as Chingachgook sounded. She gestured firmly for him to sit.

Uncas then placed himself behind Alice where it seemed he belonged.

When she got up to reach for something, it became clear just how beautifully the Delaware tunic fitted her petite frame. Alice was a vision herself.

She cared not for the gawking of the women around her at Uncas. In fact she might have enjoyed that too. Uncas was hers.

Uncas looked longingly after every move she made too. He paid the stares of other women no mind. He obviously had developed a fierce attachment that would not be shaken. The trust they undoubtedly had was unrivalled by anyone I'd ever known. They had saved each other on that fateful day on the cliffs.

Not even Cora and Nathaniel had a bond like theirs. I don't think. Were one or the other of them to leave should they wish, God forbid, they'd have to turn the world upside down and inside out to lose the other. That trust wasn't going anywhere.

Alice returned and blushed under Uncas' scrutiny. She said something to him which had him remove the blanket to reveal his chest. It turned out she was changing his bandages.

Chingachgook nodded,

"Good girl."

Alice then settled down between Uncas' legs and went rigid when he shimmied closer to her. She was unsure of how to respond but Uncas didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his free arm about her waist tightly and smiled into her cheek.

Alice couldn't have looked more mortified if she tried.

Chingachgook rolled his eyes and shook his head,

"The girl is a good choice. More modest than he. More innocent. She will teach him patience."

"I thought his patience," I coughed, "pretty sound."

"There is never enough patience," mused my elder, "And patience is hard to come by under blankets. He will need it."

He didn't look at me when he said that but he wasn't shy. Merely thoughtful. He had my attention; that was for sure.

I stared at him a long while before my eyes drifted from them to Cora and Nathaniel. They sat together by the communal fire; Nathaniel stirring the broth while Cora watched, mesmerised by his actions and talking about nothing. Funny, I always thought their relationship to be filled with more fervour. But now I'm not so sure.

When once we were in hell, now we were on earth and the wilderness accepted us. It was a brief bliss.

A foul smell then reached my nostrils and I coughed, feeling my chest strain. A short, sharp burst of pain travelled through me and was followed by a slow burning sensation.

I shouldn't really have lasted this long. I think my last lines are these and how well timed?

I held my bandages and later asked the woman who looked after me to check the wound.

She made a face,

"Not good."

She needn't say more. I could live without a lung for a time; only a time. To survive as a whole my lung would have to be removed and who knew how to do that? Not me. A festering wound however...

Ugh...infection. Oh well.

Chingachgook, thank you.

* * *

 **A/N So REVIEWS PLEASE!  
The UK have left the EU which really pisses me off so I was well inclined to kill everyone off to vent my frustration but no...I kept to the original plan.  
So, yeah, penultimate. I've got the smallest chapter coming up to give this thing a proper send off. Cheers, guys!  
REVIEW!  
**


	12. Chapter 12

My greatest concern has been and will always be my sons. When Uncas raced after the girl, I could think of no better thing to do than follow. Marie was right, there were far more practical things we could have done but we didn't do them. Perhaps if we did, it might have been a smoother end.

But that is always the way. There are always things one could have done but didn't do. Our lives are full of those choices and the end of those paths always lead us to where we are now.

Marie, despite her fear and panic, was the most level headed out of us all in the end.

It's over now.

With my concern for my sons came the concern that Alice would not fit into this way of life, less so because she wouldn't try. But she has surprised me. She is learning. It seemed for a time that she was unhappy but I think she realised she was unhappy because her elders would have thought it too simple. It was shame that held her back. One day she let go of the shame and her happiness came rushing in like water over the falls. She is a slow learner but she is being taught to weave and cook. She will be fine for Summer and Autumn but Winter will be another bridge to cross at a different time. But the girls like to teach her and she likes to learn. My son is proud of her and to be hers.

I am too.

My white son and the dark haired Cora are making plans to move away. I have asked Hawkeye not to go far but they are spirits bound for adventure. They will go where the wind takes them and they have my blessing to do so.

We have named Alice 'Achomawi'. It means 'River'. I would have called her something different but the people here seem to know her differently from the person I see. She flows, they say, like a river. Her eyes are like the water and her movements wash across the land. I see it if I look hard enough but Uncas won't call her anything but her birth name.

Together, they are now Huchnom. 'The Mountain people'. I am amused, their story will surpass my own in time, if it hasn't already.

I look at my children now and see it as Marie has always done. My white son and his dark haired woman, Cora whose name I have yet to be told of, are meant to be. They fit like the sea fits the shore.

Uncas and Achomawi do not and it is for this reason that I see why they are so important to the circle of life. They have built a bridge. Their faith in each other has given us hope. Even as the crows around them try to steal one lover away from the other, they do not falter. Trust is embedded in them, made the roots grow deep.

They have blossomed, they are a beautiful tree meant for time to challenge and it _will_ challenge them. But I, Chingachgook, will make sure they thrive. Even when the pastures of life turn dry and lifeless for lack of rain, I will push them on for I will not see the last of my people die while I live for no reason other than life was too difficult. I will not be the last of anything.

Marie has had faith from the beginning, it is only fair to reward it. But yes, the roots are deep, the trunk is strong, myself, Marie, Hawkeye and whoever else will grow into our family are the branches. Marie was the first to grow leaves.

They are bigger than us; Uncas and Achomawi. Fox and River.

As for Marie; she is gone. I have wept and wept and continue to weep even now. But my people's council fire is lit and there is space for her but she won't go. Illinois is for the taking now. We have thrown her ashes following the North wind in the biggest field we could find. She's not good with directions, but at least, this way, her spirit will know which way to start going.

Safe journey, Traveller. Until we meet again.

* * *

 **A/N Here we are at the end of this adventure. :( I hope the ending worked out well enough to live up to the hype of your anticipation. If not...please don't tell me, just pretend it was amazing. I won't have the time to write this chapter again for a good while now.**

 **But on top of that, m** **y best bit about writing these things (or any stories, for that matter) is watching my characters evolve. It's like they become their own people. Fun!  
Thanks for all the reviews and all the support. Thanks for giving my less conventional story some buzz, 'twas nice. You're all heroes/heroines and I wish all the bestest things for you. **

**However, so inspired am I, that I've got another idea brewing in my head but whether or not that makes it to paper let alone here anytime soon, is another matter altogether. But again, thanks!**

 **Don't forget to leave behind a review when you go and even if you've just arrived (or returning sometime in the future) and binged read the story, leave reviews. Even reviews for a story 1000 years old are a great thing.**

 **Till the next time!**


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